Thoughts on Being a Duck
by 554Laura
Summary: Just for fun: Random short stories about what our favorite characters might have been thinking during different episodes. Different styles and points of view. Thanks to Lily Live for a great idea. And, you guessed it...I still don't own Bones.
1. Chapter 1 Being a Duck

ARRRRGH! I CAN'T STAND THE SIGHT OF SEELEY BOOTH!

Angela just laughs at me when I tell her that...she thinks I'm fighting my sexual attraction for him and that it's causing me tremendous frustration, but I'm absolutely positive she couldn't be more wrong.

That man is a smug, arrogant, opportunistic rat bastard, and I detest him! I never want to work with him again!

Dr. Goodman thinks he can 'loan me out' to the FBI whenever he chooses, since the Jeffersonian and the FBI work together, and that's fine, I suppose, as long as he doesn't 'loan' me to Special Agent Booth again.

I know you're wondering why a rational, logical scientist such as myself has developed such an acute aversion to another person, but I have my reasons.

Angela says I'm making up reasons to hate Agent Booth because I'm afraid I might like him too much. She assumes that just because she finds him sexually desirable, I must think of him that way as well. That's laughable. I can hardly tolerate being in the same room with him.

Why? Perhaps if I provide you enough evidence, you'll understand.

For example, consider our most recent case.

Agent Booth requested that Homeland Security hold me for questioning after I refused to return his phone calls. It was definitely an abuse of his position within the FBI. There I was, in the airport after I returned from my trip to Guatemala, minding my own business, when members of Homeland Security took me into custody just because Booth requested it. Of course, they were upset because I resisted arrest and made them look incompetent, but they had no business stopping me in the first place. Then Booth shows up, of course, trying to prove that he's an alpha male and in charge. It was the 'I'm a badass federal agent, come to rescue a damsel in distress' routine. I wouldn't have needed rescuing if he had left me alone in the first place, but according to him he needed my help to solve a disturbing case, and drastic measures were necessary to get my attention.

Yeah, right...Basically he kidnapped me, or more accurately, he seconded me. That's one reason I've refused to work with him. He's obnoxious and arrogant, and it doesn't bother him to bend the rules if it suits his purpose. His overblown actions in this matter just proved it again. However, I chose to put aside my objections to working with him when he assured me I could have full participation in solving the case of Cleo Eller. I knew I could be a mature adult about the situation, and I could attempt to be tolerant of his condescending attitude toward me and my team in order to obtain justice for this young woman. I also knew that Special Agent Jackass must be in desperate need of my assistance, so I made a bargain with him. I would help him solve the case if he would allow me to go out into the field with him while he investigated it. I was tired of being tied to the lab. I wanted to see how my expertise was being put to use by the FBI.

He readily made the bargain, even invoking the names of two fictional television characters to seal the deal. (He's really quite ridiculous.) He took me to meet his boss, Director Cullen, who gave a somewhat less than enthusiastic blessing to our arrangement….not that I really care what Cullen thinks, since I work for the Jeffersonian. Anyway, the arrangement was working well until Booth realized that he might be in line to head the team investigating Ms. Eller's death. Then he wanted nothing to do with me or my team. He was going to handle this all on his own, because, according to some perverse wisdom on his part, cops solve criminal cases, not 'squints'. (Squints is Booth's derisive name for extremely intelligent people who have basic reasoning skills.)

So that was the crux of the matter...he had me detained and demanded that I help him with this difficult case, and then once I'm interested, and I want to help with the case, he tells me he doesn't need me any more. And Angela wonders why I'm angry….

But there is something else...something I'm slightly embarrassed about...I should've told Special Agent Fancy Pants to go to Hell and let him struggle to find enough evidence on his own to solve the Cleo Eller case. Obviously, he thought he didn't need me after all. But I was enjoying the challenge of being away from my palace of science and out in the real world. It was quite interesting to see what happens on the enforcement side of the law. So when Booth said he had to get his ducks in a row to be able to lead the investigative team…..I said I could be a duck.

That's right. I offered to be a duck. Seriously. I was willing to allow Booth to be my superior in this matter, even though I am far more intelligent than he is. And if that's not embarrassing enough, I blackmailed him into allowing me to continue on the case. I wanted to prove that science could be invaluable in solving crimes, and I was willing to go to great lengths to do so, even to the point of demanding to work with a cocky jackass federal agent who wouldn't know a femur if it bit him on the gluteus maximus.

So now I'm stuck working with this obstinate man who thinks scientific thought is useless in solving a crime. "Squints don't solve crimes...cops do." Fine, Booth. Go solve your crime. I'll just provide the evidence you need for the court case since juries won't be impressed with your gut instinct. Don't worry about thanking me…

Is tolerating his condescending behavior toward me really worth it? I don't know...I'm not sure I can tolerate his thinly veiled arrogance and his total lack of logic. I need to be around people who think rationally without being influenced by emotion. I think it's better if I just avoid him altogether. He makes me crazy.

I HATE SEELEY BOOTH.


	2. Chapter 2 The Plan

It was a great plan, really. I had everything arranged down to the last detail. It looked like luck was finally on my side, and I was actually going to get Dr. Temperance Brennan to work with me again. At least that's what I thought that morning….

The body in the cemetery pond was going to be a mess to deal with, and I knew I needed help working the case, especially since Cullen's been riding my ass to close some cases. He's got this crazy idea that I should have to earn the special agent title. Call the Jeffersonian, he says. Get them to help you, he says. Like that's gonna work, right? But he's the boss, so I call, and lo and behold, instead of talking to Dr. Brennan's weirdo assistant Zach, who stonewalls me by refusing to put my calls through to Dr. Brennan, I get some girl named Angela, who tells me that Brennan will be back from Guatemala this afternoon. That gives me an idea….

So I talk to my buddy Al at Homeland Security and call in a favor. I ask him to put in a hold for questioning order on one Dr. Temperance Brennan. They'd pick her up, and then I'd swoop in and rescue her from them. She'd be glad to see me, since being detained by Homeland Security is stressful and all, and then, because I rescued her, she'd agree to help me solve my new case. What could possibly go wrong? I'm not a bad looking guy, and most women like me and would be glad to have me rescue them. Piece of cake…

Except Bones isn't most women. It seems I'd underestimated her again. She wasn't the least bit intimidated by Al from Homeland Security. In fact, she'd taken him down with some sort of karate move in front of his own guys when he tried to detain her. And she's brilliant...as soon as she saw me there, she figured out exactly what was going on, and she was so angry….at least I think she was angry. She turned those big blue eyes on me, and I about forgot my own damn name, let alone noticing whether or not she was angry. God, she's gorgeous….I'd forgotten just how hot she is...oh, yeah...I'm supposed to be working...we've got a case….

So I'm trying to explain about the body that was found as we're driving to Arlington National Cemetery, but she's still pissed, so she threatens to yell out the window that I'm kidnapping her. Yeah, right...Like anyone could kidnap her if she didn't want to go with them. I stop the car so I can talk some sense into her, and she jumps out and starts to leave me in the lurch, spouting off shit about having doctorates and being irreplaceable. And I'm desperate, you know? How would I explain to Cullen that I lost a forensic anthropologist? So, I do something stupid...I tell her she can go out in the field with me. I even mention Mulder and Scully, but she doesn't know who they are. How can she be so brilliant and so dumb at the same time? So you know what happens next, right? Yep….me and a squint chick out in the field together trying to catch a killer.

Or so I tell myself… but Bones isn't some random chick. She's an exceptional woman, and I've been trying to quit thinking about her for over a year now. I guess she moved on from what she felt about me in the past with no trouble at all, and I've moved on myself, you know? I've got a beautiful girlfriend right now, and I'm happy, but, still….Bones still creeps into my thoughts from time to time. I'm not sure I like that, either...

Anyway, Bones and the squint squad find out that the body we found is a missing girl named Cleo Eller, and suddenly the stakes became higher. I was second to the lead on the original investigation, so maybe I can be the head of the new one, right? I just gotta get my ducks in a row, right? Good plan again, except Bones calls me on our agreement, saying I gotta let her be a duck, or she'll spill the beans on the victim's identity, which I'm trying to keep quiet for awhile. Can you believe that? She's blackmailing a federal agent without batting an eye. But I need her help, so I have to let her go out into the field with me. No big deal, you know, because it doesn't hurt my reputation to be seen in public with a beautiful scientist, but then she goes all gung ho on her own, trying to get DNA from a senator who might be a suspect. A senator, for Christ's sake...Bones assaulted a senator, and so we get kicked off the case. To be honest, it wasn't just that….Cullen has been irritated with me for awhile. Not being able to control my squint girl was just the last straw.

But here's the deal. She doesn't wanna give up the case. She keeps pushing her science on me, telling me we...yeah, "WE" can find the killer. Well, I got all pissy and told her cops don't need squints...at least I think that's what I told her. She was so close, and mostly I just wanted to kiss the hell out of those beautiful lips of hers, but I managed to control myself, sort of….I just can't remember everything I said to her.

Turns out, she was right all along. We actually could use a combination of her science skills and my cop instincts to find Cleo Eller's killer. We nailed him, and Cullen decided maybe I wasn't such a loser after all, especially if I could convince a respected scientist to work with me and the FBI.

So even though my original plan blew up in my face, it put me on track to a better plan. I'm gonna convince Bones to help me solve more cases. That's gonna put me back in Cullen's good graces, and maybe it'll help me even up things with God...maybe I can make up for all those people I killed when I was a sniper. I don't know about that….I just know I wanna keep working with that brilliant, crazy, beautiful scientist. I want this partnership to last a long time.


	3. Chapter 3 The Target

_From Man in the SUV: First Booth's POV, then Brennan's POV_

I killed a man today.

True, it was sanctioned by the US government. After all, it's my job to protect the safety of other people. The man was a terrorist, hellbent on causing panic, mass destruction and death when he detonated the bomb he was carrying, and he had to be stopped by any means necessary before he could attain his objective.

I was that means.

Bones called his name so he'd turn around and I could see his face. I had to be sure...I needed to see his face. We tried to get him to stand down, but it didn't work. He stood there looking at me for that split second, his thumb on that button, ready to kill or maim as many people as he could when he blew himself up.

So I did my job. I took out the target. I put a single bullet in his brain.

And I hated it.

Sometimes when things like this happen to me, I wonder if I'm in the right line of work. Every time I have to kill someone in the line of duty, a small part of me seems to die with them, even when I know I'm doing the right thing. I know the FBI will have me go for counseling, and there'll be an official review, but it's all just a formality. And I'll always do my job, even if it injures my soul, because it's my responsibility. But they never really talk about what I want to know, which is this: how can I live with myself, knowing that every day I might have to kill another human being as part of my job? Is there anyone I can really talk to honestly about this?

Yeah, there is someone. There's Bones.

I was still pretty shaken up after we finished up at the crime scene, so Bones and I went for a drink at Wong Foo's. I told her that I didn't want any recognition for being a hero, because I didn't do anything worth celebrating when I took that man's life. And then she gave me that quirky smile of hers, and she patted my arm gently. "You saved so many people, Booth. Don't forget that." No pity and no judgment. She just listened to me. I could tell her anything, and she would still accept me for who I am, not for what I did. She sat there patiently, letting me ramble on about what happened, and never made me feel like I had to apologize for anything I felt at that moment. I could feel the warmth of her friendship spread through my soul as it eased my guilt and pain.

We sat for a few minutes in comfortable silence, and I offered to buy us another round, but Bones didn't want another drink. She said, "Tessa will be worried about you." She was right...Tessa worries about me a lot. So it was time to call it a night, and I reluctantly left my friend there, sitting at the bar alone, to go home to my girlfriend.

I was worried, too. What would I say to Tessa about today? "Hi, honey, I'm home. How was your day? What's for dinner? Sorry I'm late...I had to kill a guy this afternoon." Just another day at the office, right? So instead I said nothing about what happened today, and we ate dinner in silence, because I didn't have the energy this evening to spend on another argument. We've been down that road many times before. I know Tessa hates my job. She wants me to go to law school so I can make more money and be home on time every night, safe and sound, and that might be nice, but…

As I lay in bed tonight, staring at the ceiling, thinking over what happened today, it finally hit me. Even with all the pain and anguish my work causes me, I know I'm doing what I need to do. This is my calling. I have to work for justice for the world so I can live with myself. I need my work as much as I need to breathe. I'm not sure Tessa will ever understand that….but I know Bones does.

oooooooooo

I finished my wine at the bar after Booth left and came back to the lab to identify more World War I remains. After all the tumultuous events of the day, the sameness of the routine I have established when I lay out a set of bones for identification is comforting. Being able to find order among the chaos of life keeps me focused on the task at hand….most of the time.

Tonight, however, my mind keeps drifting back to Booth and his reaction to what happened this afternoon. I must admit that I was surprised by how distraught Booth was after killing the man who was threatening to detonate a bomb in a convention center crowded with people, especially since he appeared to have no other choice if he wanted to prevent a disaster from occurring. The man with the bomb refused to stand down. Booth did the right thing under those circumstances. I would've thought he would be inured to the pain of a situation like that, but he was obviously quite upset. Perhaps it was because we'd had personal contact with the man who was killed, but it seems to be more than that. It seems that killing the man with the bomb has caused Booth tremendous emotional pain.

Booth mentioned his 'cosmic balance sheet' again as we left the crime scene tonight. I laughed a bit until I realized he was serious. Of course, it isn't logical to think about life as a scorecard like that...there are too many uncontrolled variables. Even if the god Booth believes in was real, would that god, who supposedly runs the Universe, really have time to go around keeping track of everyone Booth kills? Booth seems to think so. So I explained something to him. All of the people who didn't die because Booth killed a man that was about to set off a deadly bomb should balance out against all of the people Booth has killed in the past. Those numbers would offset each other. I'm not sure he really understood what I was saying, because Booth seems to use a different number system than most people use. However, it did seem to help him feel slightly better, and he seemed somewhat more at ease with himself before he went home to his girlfriend tonight.

I'm Booth's partner. It's my job to support him when things are dangerous or uncomfortable, or when he has doubts about whether or not he did the right thing during a case. I'm not supposed to judge him. I'm supposed to listen to him and let him know I'm trying to understand what he's feeling. I'm going to do my best to be there for him, because that's what partners do for each other.


	4. Chapter 4 The Squints

_From The Boy in the Tree._

Okay, so here's the way it is with the squints. They're really smart, but a lot of them don't have any basic social skills. When you work with them, you've gotta set boundaries with them early, or they'll invade every corner of your life before you know it, and you'll never get a moment's peace. I firmly believe squints should be seen in public only on special occasions, like Einstein's Birthday, or National Hug a Geek Day, but other than that, they belong in their labs where they can work away on gathering their facts and figures instead of annoying me.

We probably shouldn't mention my opinion on that to Bones since she might not understand the sarcasm in my statement. That's another thing about squints, you know? They won't get a joke unless it's about some dead guy named Schrodinger and his cat or it's got a chemical formula attached to it. Of course, they think I'm on the caveman level intelligence wise because I like the Stooges, but you just can't beat slapstick as far as I'm concerned.

Don't get me wrong...The squints are very valuable. They've helped Bones and me solve plenty of our really tough cases. It's just that I'm not sure I wanna get all chummy with them, and I definitely don't wanna be best friends with them. I wanna be like the kind of person who nods and smiles at them without bothering to learn their names. They do their job, and I do mine, and we all stay happy that way. I'm not sure why that's so hard to understand. After all, Zach and Hodgins are supposed to be geniuses. Angela's not a genius, I guess, although she is really, really good at understanding what makes people tick. Anyway, you'd think they would be able to tell that I don't want them up in my business, asking me lots of personal questions that I don't wanna answer.

Well, imagine my surprise when the whole group of them all show up at Wong Foo's while I'm having lunch there with Bones. And naturally they all had to sit in the same booth with us, crowding in and then passing around pictures of a decaying corpse, complete with commentary about the body leaking fluids and the bugs that feasted on the body. They were so loud and obnoxious it even bothered Sid, and trust me, you can't get more laid back than Sid. So he had to lay down the law. No more godawful pictures or discussions about dead people in the restaurant. People are trying to eat, you know? That should be the end of it, right?

Nope. They still show up because they want to socialize with each other and with _me_ , for Christ's sake. Now they think of me as their best nonsquinty friend! It's like any friend of Bones is a friend of theirs, too. Well, they're wrong, but now they've taken over the whole damn restaurant. Sid says as long as they behave themselves about the dead body shit, he doesn't care, but he just doesn't get it. Now they're sitting in my booth or at my counter, invading my personal space...my territory. Bones thought it was funny that I put on what she called an alpha male display to show which part of Wong Foo's is MINE, but I had to let them know without a doubt what my boundaries are, or they'd take advantage of me. If I'm not careful they'll bring all their friends and family and it'll be a squinty party there all the time, and I'll have to find a new place to hang out. Who's got time to do that? Not me. It's better to just set the ground rules now, even if it ruffles some feathers. Wong Foo's is my spot, and I'm not gonna tolerate a squinty invasion of my turf.

oooooooooo

Surprisingly, I've discovered that I really enjoy the food at Wong Foo's. I find it intriguing that I never have to tell Sid what I want….he just brings what he thinks I need. I would be interested in the method he uses in making selections for his customers.

Of course, the only reason I know anything about Wong Foo's is because Booth has brought me here for lunch or for a drink after we've finished a case. He's said on several occasions that he considers it to be _his_ place. In the literal sense, that isn't true, but anthropologically speaking, he obviously considers the restaurant to be a part of his territory, and his alpha male behavior is quite apparent when he feels his territory is threatened. He has a specific table he prefers, and he's uncomfortable if he has to sit somewhere else. He has also selected a section of the counter as his favorite place to sit if his table is unavailable. He has instructed Zach, Angela, Hodgins, and me on the proper etiquette and protocols as to where we are allowed to sit in relation to him while we are at Wong Foo's. Once, when I accidentally invaded his space, I believe his exact words were "What part of mine do you not understand?" His efforts to guard his territory are really quite humorous. I'm actually surprised that Booth hasn't urinated on the corners of the building to mark it as his own personal property.

Unfortunately, I have to admit that even though I am an anthropologist, I did underestimate the strength of Booth's territorial response. I made the mistake of asking a gentleman of my acquaintance to have dinner with me at Wong Foo's. Booth was already there when we arrived, and he put on an impressive alpha male territorial display, complete with loud talking, threatening posture, and puffed up chest. He also seemed particularly disdainful of my choice in dining companion. Observe:

"Bones, if you want to have dinner with a guy other than me, does it have to be here, at my place? Aren't there other restaurants you scientists can go to...you know, where you can talk about anthropology facts and dead bodies without upsetting us regular folks?"

"It's a free country, Booth. Sid said he doesn't care if I come here to eat as long as I pay the bill."

"Yeah, but did you really have to bring that Venezuelan gorilla? Does he even speak English?"

"Mr. Tovar Comara is a very intelligent man, Booth. He speaks English very well, and I also speak Spanish. We can converse quite easily. Besides, we may not be talking a lot…"

"Seriously, Bones...way to ruin my meal. I just wanna eat my meal in my place in peace, and now I gotta put up with squints and their dates in my place..."

As you can see, Booth was completely irrational about what he perceives to be his territory. The interesting thing is that he doesn't act this way when it's just the two of us at the restaurant. It only seems to happen when the team from the Jeffersonian arrives or if I'm there with a man other than Booth. It seems that I need to make more observations about Booth's behavior in relation to his territory. It will be a very interesting study. I find that I'm looking forward to conducting it.


	5. Chapter 5 The Bear

_A/N: From The Man in the Bear. First Brennan's POV, then Booth's._

I find that I'm very annoyed with Dr. Goodman.

When Booth came to my office that morning to show me the photographs of the human hand that had been discovered inside a bear's stomach, I assumed the Seattle FBI office wanted him to work the case because he was partnered with me, and I specialize in identifying unidentifiable remains. After all, I am the best forensic anthropologist in the country. It wasn't difficult to determine that the remains of the hand were from a human male, and the kerf marks appeared to be from some sort of saw. That should have been the end of the story….find the rest of the man, and the case would be solved.

Except that Booth had already convinced Dr. Goodman to assign me to travel with him to Aurora, Washington as part of the team investigating the unusual death of an unidentified male. The remains were found in the digestive system of a bear that was killed in a National Forest wilderness camping area, so it was FBI jurisdiction. Booth sat down in my office with that smug look on his face, informing me that I needed to "pack my bags" because I was going with him to the state of Washington. I said I wouldn't go, and he informed me that just because I stated things in an authoritative manner, it didn't make it true. It appeared that the FBI had "borrowed" me from the Jeffersonian once again. That arrogant bastard... Whatever happened to common courtesy? I wasn't even asked if I wanted to go, or if I might have other plans that would prevent me from going. For all intents and purposes, Dr. Goodman was lending me to Agent Booth in the same manner as one would lend a tool or a book to a friend. I find their lack of concern for my opinion on the matter to be quite infuriating.

Even though I complained loudly, it soon became clear that I had little choice in the matter. Dr. Goodman evidently believes he's in charge of my personal well being as well as my professional life, and he decided it would be "good for me to live a little", and, in his opinion, this sort of trip was going to be exactly what I needed in order to accomplish that. So we left the early the next morning, whether I wanted to go or not. After a long flight and a very long drive Booth and I found ourselves in the quaint little village of Aurora. As small towns go, it's rather ordinary except for the scenery, which is spectacular...lots of mountains covered with large forests. Booth went to find the sheriff, and I went to find the veterinarian who'd found the remains. After I examined the remains, I decided to ship them overnight to the lab so Zach and Hodgins could perform more tests. That's when I met Charlie. Ah, yes….Charlie…..

Charlie is a fine example of the adult human male. He has symmetrical facial features, and the musculature of his hips and thighs is very well developed, probably due to the extensive amount of time he spends engaging in skiing, climbing, and various other outdoor activities. He seemed to be quite friendly, mentioning that he was reading my latest novel, and I enjoyed our little chats when I went to the office to arrange for shipping my packages back to the lab. In fact, most of the men I met in Aurora were very friendly. They seemed to go out of their way to make me happy during my stay. The park ranger was interested in discussing my work, and I had several offers to have dinner with Charlie, the sheriff and the doctor. It also seemed that a lot of men in town were willing to dance with me at the bar, even though I do have the tendency to lead, thus stepping on their toes in the process. They were quite generous in overlooking that fault as long as I wanted to be their partner. I guess that's what is meant by small town hospitality. Booth said they were hitting on me, but he tends to be overprotective to the extreme. He was obviously exaggerating their interest in me. They were simply being amiable.

As it turned out, this was a very interesting case, and I was fascinated by the outcome. It's hard to imagine that one would find a person who chose to be a cannibal in this day and age, and the fact that the doctor thought that performing the cannibalistic ritual would give him the qualities he wanted to gain is interesting from an anthropological point of view. It's a common trope among ancient cultures, even though most people consider eating human flesh to be a deeply ingrained taboo. I don't know if I'd go so far as to thank Booth for forcing me to travel Washington with him, but I am looking forward to returning during the winter months to go skiing with Charlie. I imagine he's quite a proficient skier...he's probably proficient in many athletic activities.

However, I'm not sure Booth enjoyed the mountain environs surrounding Aurora. I think he may have been suffering from altitude sickness while we were there. There had been several times over the few days we were there when he seemed to have lost his appetite, and he was more irritable than normal, especially around Charlie and the sheriff. He appeared to be uncomfortable with how friendly the townspeople were towards me, which surprised me a great deal. Booth is normally a friendly person, but he was extremely overprotective of me. Perhaps he was feeling responsible for my safety because we were away from our normal DC surroundings. Of course, that's silly, because I'm certainly capable of taking care of myself, even in unfamiliar situations. I hope that if we have to travel out of town for a case in the future he will be able to stop hovering over me. After all, I am a grown woman who has traveled all over the world. I know what I'm doing when I'm out in the field.

And I'm still annoyed at Dr. Goodman.

oooooooooo

I don't think I've seen a hornier group of guys in my life. Seriously. You'd think those guys in Aurora had never seen a beautiful woman before. The idiots were practically standing with their tongues hanging out, panting after Bones like a pack of rabid wolves. Those sex crazed fellas were all practically falling all over themselves just to get Bones to pay attention to them. It was like watching a bunch of teenage boys trying to get the hot cheerleader to look at them. It would have been really funny if it wasn't so pathetic. I mean, I know they don't have a lot of good looking, eligible women in Aurora, but seriously, those guys were out of control...I thought they were gonna slug it out over who was gonna get to dance with her. They were pawing at her like they'd all been celibate for years. Well, it's a good thing I was there to keep Bones safe from those jokers. She said they were pumping her for information, but I can tell you that wasn't what was on their minds….they were thinking of humping, not pumping.

Don't get me wrong...Bones is a beautiful woman if you like that tall slender type with a great figure. She's an outdoorsy girl that doesn't need a lot of makeup to be pretty, and the fact that she's not overly concerned with her looks makes her even prettier. She's got great skin, her hair's a pretty color, and those eyes...well, you know….those blue eyes can take a man's breath away.

Now I know what you're thinking...I've got a beautiful girlfriend of my own, so what do I care if those horndogs were sniffing after my partner, right? She can dance with whoever she wants, and have dinner with whoever she wants, and she's independent enough to prove that to me. I mean, I'm pretty sure Charlie was the reason she didn't answer her phone that morning when my eggs got cold at breakfast, but I didn't say a word about it to her. She's a grown woman, and she can do what she wants, but it's my job to make sure that the sheriff and the rest of those guys keep it in their pants and treat Bones with the respect she deserves as the finest forensic anthropologist in the country. It's not a jealousy thing at all. It's a 'treat her like a lady' thing. It's an 'appreciation for my partner's reputation' thing. Trust me, it's absolutely not an 'I'm in love with my partner' thing.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it…


	6. Chapter 6 The Past

_From "A Boy in a Bush"._

I smiled to myself as I watched Booth pirouette out of my office door this afternoon. As annoyed as I have been with him recently, like when he interrupted my lecture the other night or when he gave me that poor advice about parking my new car, I had to admit that I've often found him to be quite humorous with an engaging personality. Angela says that what I mean when I say things like that is that I think Booth is cute, but it's hard for me to describe a grown man in those terms. 'Cute' is a word I usually apply to small animals. I prefer the terms 'charming' or 'entertaining'. Whatever I call it, it's usually quite pleasant to observe that aspect of Booth, and I often find myself doing things so I can see that aspect of his personality emerge.

I grimaced as I turned back to my computer to shut it down. I knew that I hadn't told Booth the entire truth when I said that my 'grandfather' got me out of the system. That was an idiomatic phrase I learned from other foster children while I was in the 'system'. I aged out…I became too old for anyone to want to have me in their home. I didn't really have any relatives to assist me after my parents disappeared. Saying 'my grandfather got me out' simply meant I was too old to continue in the foster system. That was a difficult time...trying to finish high school and get ready for college as I was trying to find a place to live until high school was completed...but I made it, and I'm proud of my success. I was able to overcome the difficulties I was faced, and I believe it made me a strong person, but there was a price to pay. I forgot how to trust people.

I'm not sure why I didn't tell Booth the truth about that part of my life. In my mind, I know without a doubt that I can trust him. I feel certain he knows that I was in foster care, based on some of the questions he asked me during this case. He's always an investigator, and he wanted to find out what happened to me while I was in the system. I think, based on our work together solving cases, he wouldn't think any less of me even if he knew what happened when I was a foster child. Anyway, I'm sure if he really wants to know more about that time of my life it's in the information the FBI accumulated on me when I applied to work as Booth's partner, and I'm sure he's read it since he likes to be prepared for all eventualities. He is definitely thorough.

Perhaps the time I spent with Shawn and David Cook dredged up some old memories for me. When I was in foster care I learned to avoid complaining about things too much, because things could often get worse in the next placement. I learned not to share too much of myself, and not to make too many attachments, because I had no idea how long I'd be in any one place, and friendships were ephemeral...here today and gone tomorrow. I also learned how to protect myself emotionally from other people by not allowing them to know too much about me. To me, it seemed the less people knew about my life, the better. I still remember my mother saying "Once bitten, twice shy." I'm not completely sure I understand that adage, but I know that opening up to people I didn't know well caused significant emotional pain, and I want to avoid that at all costs.

I'm glad I was able to convince Booth to let me talk to Shawn Cook so I could get the murderer's name. I'm sure Booth was surprised that I was successful, since he was uncertain of my ability to communicate with a child, but I knew Shawn and I had something in common...something I could use to get him to trust me enough to confide in me. It appears that I was correct...Shawn told me the information we needed to make the arrest in the case.

I guess I put Booth on the proverbial spot when I told Shawn that Booth would make sure he and his brother would get to go back to Margaret Sanders, but that was something that needed to be accomplished. Excellent foster homes seem to be few and far between, and I wanted to be sure they got to stay with someone who loved them. I knew that I could trust Booth to handle that issue. I was thrilled to be there when the boys were reunited with her.

Booth has proven many times that he also takes care of people he knows. I know he brought some small bundle of a trivial nature for Hodgins to analyze for the FBI so that Hodgins could legitimately skip the formal Jeffersonian banquet this evening. If Booth does things like that for someone he barely knows, how much more would he do for his partner?

It seems that what motivates Booth to be a good man is his desire to achieve a trip to 'Heaven' some day. What a ridiculous concept….I can't understand why a grown man would believe such fantasies….but on the other hand….the concept seems to inspire Booth to do some amazing things. I think I need to study the relationship between his beliefs and his actions further. Perhaps I can ask him to give me some insight into this idea.

I do know that whether or not he gets into Heaven, Booth is a very good man.

oooooooooo

Something was different with Bones and this case, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. I mean, of course I knew she'd been in foster care when she was a teenager, but I guess I didn't realize what all that meant to her in relation to this case. I figured all foster parents were loving like the woman in our case who took in those two boys, but Bones disagreed...based on her experience she seemed to think that foster mom was exceptional, especially the way she cared for those kids like they were her own.

I was really surprised how angry Bones was when I made the decision to arrest Margaret Sanders, but, according to the law, I had little choice. Bones is usually so logical, and I couldn't figure out why the arrest struck such a nerve with her, until I remembered she had been in foster care herself. Considering her comments about the 'system', her experiences were real unpleasant, but that doesn't mean I can ignore the situation in front of me. I've sworn to uphold the law, and if Bones is gonna work with me, she's gotta realize what that means to me. I don't take that lightly, and I can't let personal feelings get in the way, no matter what Bones thinks. I guess she knows that...I gotta admit, though...when she said she respected me even if she couldn't respect the law, I was really pleased and proud. To have a woman like her say that about me….wow….It kinda stunned me a bit.

I tried getting through to the kid to find out what we needed to know, but I was having no luck. He stonewalled me like a pro, and wouldn't even give me the time of day. So when Bones asked me if she could talk to Shawn, my first instinct was to say no. I knew it wouldn't make any difference how many big fancy words she threw at him...I didn't think she'd be able to get through to him, but I'm so glad I listened to her…

Because she knew. Somehow she knew what he was feeling, she knew what he'd been through, and she knew what to say. It about broke my heart when I realized she was telling that kid things that had happened to her...she knew what it felt like to be treated like dirt...basically, like garbage...and that little boy knew that he could relate to her. But then she told the kid that I could make sure that he and his brother could go back to live with Margaret Sanders. Jesus...it's not like I can walk on water, you know, but I was not about to let Bones down on that promise. She's just now beginning to trust me, and I don't want to risk losing that...so I pulled some major strings and called in all sorts of favors, and it was worth it when I saw her smiling at me when the kids were reunited with their foster mom.

When I went to tell Bones how it all played out with the exterminator...about how he'd confessed, she wasn't really willing to talk about the things I wanted to know. I apologized for being a jackass about the foster care thing, but she brushed me off with some story about her 'grandfather'. I knew she didn't have any living relatives, but I let that ride. She just wasn't in the mood to talk, but I couldn't let things go. There was something I had to find out. So I made up my mind to ask her about it when I took that package to Hodgins to help him skip that banquet.

God...she looked gorgeous. When I saw her all dressed up like that it took me a few minutes to be able to form a real sentence. Finally I was able to ask her what I wanted to know. I wanted to find out how she knew I'd keep her promise to that kid, and first she gave me some bullshit about the ends justifying the means. Then I got the real story...she says she knew I'd do the best I could for those kids because I want to get to Heaven, and she's right. I do want to get there, so I try to do the right thing.

I just never thought Bones would be the one who'd help me get there.


	7. Chapter 7 The Mummy

_A/N: So this entry is out of order with the other posts under this title, but I couldn't wait to share it with you all. I had a wonderful opportunity to co write this story with the very talented AlphaGirl13. She wrote Brennan's point of view for this post, and I wrote Booth's pov. If you haven't checked out her stories, you need to do so! They're very enjoyable. She'has an exceptional knack seeing things through Brennan's eyes._

 _Brennan speaks first...written by AlphaGirl13_

I stood off to the side, avoiding the crowds of people gathered in the auditorium. Every now and then, I smiled politely at another scientist and nodded my recognition. I retreated slowly until I was standing in front of the doors to the exhibit. Running my hand over the elegant door handle, I tried desperately to calm my nerves. My heart beat quickly, a reaction to the adrenaline flowing through my blood. I felt an uncomfortable heat in my stomach and my hand shook slightly on the door handle. I hated speaking at events. Lecturing was no problem; I loved educating young and eager students. But a room full of professionals was another story altogether. They were knowledgeable people; people who would be judging every word I said. I gripped the handle tightly and shut my eyes, trying to chase away the anxious thoughts.

Suddenly, a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I stiffened nervously, but a low voice set my body at ease.

""Hiya, Bones."

I turned from the doors and smiled slightly at my partner.

"What are you doing out here? The party's about to start. Don't you need to be in with all the guests?" He asked as his eyes roamed over my face. I knew he was searching for an answer, but as I glanced towards the auditorium doors, my palms grew slightly damp. I had hated the interview for my doctorate; I had hated the interview for my position at the Jeffersonian; and I had hated every research proposal I had ever done.

And every time, I was scared. The feeling was illogical, but I was terrified. I hated being judged, I hated feeling unwanted or unappreciated. And that night was no exception. So instead of facing the professionals in the next room, I did something very childish: I grabbed Booth's hand and pulled him through the exhibit doors.

"I want to show you the exhibit since you were involved in the recovery of the ruby. Come on…"

He followed me quietly, trying not to alert the others to what we were doing. But as soon as we were out of earshot, he turned to me, slightly panicked.

"Bones! We're not supposed to be down here yet!" he whispered.

I chuckled. He was always a rule follower.

"You're with me Booth. This is my find, you're not going to get into trouble."

He walked forward, mesmerized by the ornate displays. Only at the last second did I notice the extravagant gold emblem on the floor.

"Don't! Don't step on that!"

"Why?!"

But as soon as he asked the question, he moved on.

"God this is so cool!"

We walked towards the glass cases, separated by the center display.

"So" Booth asked. "He wasn't trampled by his brother?"

I was still nervous, but the science of a find was always something I could fall back on. I could focus on the facts; they were something I could prove, something I knew conclusively.

"No." I pointed at the linen wrapped mummy. "Meti suffered from Osteogenesis Imperfecta."

Booth leaned down to look at the ruby, and I copied his gesture, trying to maintain his attention. He smiled at me through the glass, and I felt my temperature rise. He had an effect on me that I couldn't for the life of me describe. His eyes reflected the light from the ruby and seemed to sparkle. I immediately returned the warm smile, enjoying his company no matter how it made me feel.

"Otherwise known as brittle bone disease. Meti's fall from his horse killed him. Anok was innocent; his mother was right."

I slowly felt myself relaxing. It was amazing how just a few minutes with him could so drastically change my mood. We hadn't even talked about the speech, and yet he had calmed me in ways I could never describe.

"So it only took 3000 years for someone to hear her." Booth said softly.

I smiled at him; he always found the oddest aspect about a case to latch onto and take wisdom from.

Returning my smile with his confident, goofy grin, he spoke sincerely.

"You know, I'll tell you what, if I was Egypt, I'd throw you a party too."

I chuckled slightly, appreciating his kind words. But my mind immediately returned to the problem waiting upstairs. Just because I was avoiding it, didn't mean it had gone away. The hot feeling in my stomach returned, and my heart rate increased. I shut my eyes and drew in and let out a long slow breath, willing my heart to slow.

"I have to speak."

Finally meeting my partner's gaze, I voiced the fear I had never revealed to anyone.

"I hate these things."

I adjusted my position nervously and my eyes dropped to stare at the floor. I was supposed to be this confident, fiery person who stood up to anyone or anything in her way. What would he think of the fears behind the facade?

"What're you talking about Bones?"

He took a step forward, offering me his charm smile.

"You're great at these things. Listen, you changed _history_. How many people can say that?"

"You can!" I protested, smiling. "Every arrest you make changes history."

I stepped in, closing the gap between us. "You make the world safer." _You make me safer_ I thought silently.

"With your help." He clarified.

We were close enough now for his aftershave to fog my mind. Just being in his presence made my knees weak and my heart pound. I hated that I had no control over my own body, but I stepped closer anyway.

"So. Andrew. I thought you were going to this thing. That's what he told me." Booth moved in just a little closer.

My eyes widened as I contemplated the best way to handle the situation. I had canceled with Andrew because I didn't want him to watch me speak. I didn't want him to see me nervous or shaken. I didn't want him to comfort me. I didn't want him to be a part of what Booth and I already had.

"I was, yes. But…" I took a shallow breath. We were near enough to feel the other's body heat. I shook my head slightly and continued.

"...You and I. This was our case. And I guess…"

He stepped in until we were close enough to see every detail on each other's face. His eyes shone brightly in the low lightning of the museum. They were the color of melted chocolate, and I felt lost in their depths. It was ridiculous, but I felt my heartbeat speed up and the feeling in my stomach returned. But this time, it wasn't nervousness, it was anticipation. I didn't know what was going to happen; I didn't know what I _wanted_ to happen.

"...what goes on between us, that should just be ours. Isn't that what you said?" My voice trailed off into an almost whisper as my eyes traced every detail of his face.

"Yeah." He murmured, hardly loud enough to hear.

We were so close. It wouldn't be at all difficult for me to lean in. I could do it. The feeling in my stomach disappeared as I moved even closer. I was unsure of my actions, but in that moment, my heart was steady and my body was calm. Booth tipped his head towards mine and for a moment I thought…

But laughing on the stairwell interrupted us.

"Come on you two! The ambassador is about to speak." Angela called from the banister.

Booth turned back to me, and the moment was gone. Whatever we were going to say, whatever we were going to do, the chance was gone. I reached out to adjust his crooked bowtie, glancing at his eyes awkwardly.

"Thanks." He smiled and reached to tuck a lock of hair behind my shoulder. His hand grazed my collarbone and I felt a tremor travel up my back.

We turned and walked away, back towards the hundreds of people waiting for a speech. But for the first time that night, I wasn't nervous. I wasn't imagining every possible negative outcome. Instead, my head was filled with thoughts of Booth, and how close we were. How close we came to…

I climbed the stairs briskly, shaking the idea from my head. If I couldn't focus on my speech, I'd make a fool of myself. But Booth glanced at me and smiled widely, making my steps falter for half a second. He trusted that I could do it. He thought that I could successfully do my speech. And if he had trust in my abilities, then how could I possibly fail?

I returned the smile and entered the auditorium with my chin held high.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

 _Booth speaks...by 5546Laura_

I'm swearing at my reflection in the mirror as I try to fix this goddamn bow tie. See, this is why I hate tuxedos...you gotta wear a stupid bow tie. And with this one, no matter how I try to adjust it, it feels like it's crooked...but, then I realize the tie isn't the real problem. The real problem is that I'm going to see the new Meti exhibit without Bones, because she's bringing Hacker. God, I hate to think about that idiot with Bones, but this time it's my own damn fault. He straight up asked me if there was anything between me and Bones, and being a coward, I said no, even though my insides were screaming yes. So Hacker is going with Bones tonight, and I'm gonna be a pathetic solo act this evening. But I gotta be there to support her, because she's my Bones.

I walked into the Egyptian wing of the museum, following a whole crowd of people as we enter the ballroom. Who knew so many people would be interested in some 3000 year old Egyptian prince? Everybody's milling around, trying to figure out where to stand or sit...and then I see her. There's Bones, standing by herself in front of a large set of double doors. God, she looks gorgeous...I mean she's always beautiful, but tonight...tonight she's just perfect. I guess that jackass Hacker didn't even have the common courtesy to wait with her...maybe he's parking the car, because he's nowhere to be seen…

"Hiya, Bones. What are you doing out here? The party's about to start. Don't you need to be in with all the guests?"

She seems nervous for some reason, but she gives me a small grin and grabs my hand. "I want to show you the exhibit first since you were involved in the recovery of the ruby. Come on…" I follow her quietly, trying not to draw attention to myself. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be here yet, since the exhibit hasn't opened, but she says it's okay since it's her discovery. We dodge the big gold emblem on the floor...some sort of alarm, I guess, and she bends down to look at me through that glass box that holds the ruby and smiles at me...and I think I'm gonna melt. That smile...Jesus….it does things to me I can't explain. But then she's nervous all over again as we walk past the mummies.

I can always tell when Bones is nervous because she strings together all these big words. So she's telling me about the bone disease that Meti has, and I'm trying to listen, but I'm distracted by the display, and by the intense look on her face, and by how she looks in that dress. She's telling me that she's gonna get justice for Anok and his mother, even if it takes 3000 years. Yeah, that's my Bones…that's the woman I know and love...

"If I was Egypt, I'd throw you a party, too, Bones….this is so cool…" The look that crosses her face unsettles me a bit. "What's wrong?"

"I have to speak...I hate these things…"

"What are you talking about, Bones? You changed history. How many people get to say that?" I grin as I move closer to her, trying to boost her confidence, and then she absolutely floors me.

"You do, Booth. You change history every time you arrest someone. You make the world safer…" God...she thinks I really can do that? I guess I never thought of it that way. I'm just doing my job, you know? My heart starts to pound a little bit as I move closer to her.

"With your help…" I'm close enough to her now that her perfume is starting to cloud my mind a bit. She is so beautiful, and suddenly I don't give a damn about Egyptian princes or murder cases, or history...until I'm reminded of one big ugly part of my recent history. "So, um...Andrew...I thought you were bringing him to this thing with you tonight...at least that's what he told me…." I'm standing there, waiting for my heart to be broken again…but then she says...

"I was going to, but then I remembered what you said...about what's ours being ours, and this was our case, Booth…wasn't that what you said?"

"Yeah…" I'm so close to Bones now that I can see all the shades of blue in her eyes, and how smooth her skin is, and I can see every detail about how that dress fits, and I can hardly breathe. I can't think about anything except she's so beautiful...and she's looking at me like she wants me to kiss her, and all I can think about as she's talking is how soft her lips look, and how I want to kiss her so much, and I'm just gonna do it...I'm gonna kiss her….

And then we heard all the noise on the stairs. It's Angela, telling us the ambassador is going to speak. That's when I decide that I really hate the ambassador right now...but I look back at Bones, and she gives me this sly little smile and reaches up to fix my tie, and I thank God for crooked tuxedo ties. I need to touch her... it's overwhelming...it's all I can think about, but I'm a little nervous, too...so I reach up and flick her hair off her shoulder, knowing that I'm gonna spend the rest of the evening wishing that the ambassador could have waited a few more minutes before his speech began.

So we turn, and go back up the stairs to the party, so I can be there when Bones changes history again.


	8. Chapter 8 The Vacation

_From The Man in the Wall..._

Where am I? In Backwards World? Everything about this case seems to be so illogical. For example, I knew that some people take methamphetamines to feel good, but after accidentally inhaling it and then feeling absolutely awful the next day, I have no idea why they would do that. I don't remember ever feeling worse than I did that morning, even after getting very drunk on bhang or after a night spent drinking tequila. Methamphetamines were also used to kill our two victims in the case, and yet the owner of the nightclub where they were killed has made quite a bit of money selling the drug to people who want to get intoxicated on it. Why would people want to buy and use a substance that might kill them for a temporary thrill? That is an irrational choice.

I also noticed that the people involved in this case were often not what they appeared to be. The owner of the nightclub presented himself as a successful businessman, but he was actually a drug dealer and a murderer. His bodyguard acted like a thug, but he was an FBI special agent on an undercover assignment. We proved that one of the deejays that worked at the club didn't commit the murder, but he was ecstatic when Booth said that in exchange for his cooperation, the FBI would detain him in the remand center and charge him with murder, all because it would help his street credibility. No wonder I find it hard to understand what people are thinking. People are so unpredictable. Why would anyone want to be arrested just to sell more recordings? The deejay's music is very good, and I think people would buy it no matter if he'd been arrested or not.

Then there was the situation with Tessa, Booth's girlfriend. They've been in a romantic relationship for several months, and for the most part she has seemed happy with Booth. I have vague memories of her coming to the crime scene when the mummy was discovered behind the wall, and I suppose she found that to be distasteful, but of course, most people would. However, something must have happened between them, because instead of going on vacation with Booth, Tessa had to stay in DC to take care of something with her work. I find that to be surprising, considering the seriousness of their relationship. I would think she'd have been able to make arrangements with her employer so that she would be able to take the trip with him. Booth has several fine qualities that should make him an above average romantic partner. I find Tessa's apparent lack of effort in that regard to be most illogical.

Angela said that Tessa and Booth were both very uncomfortable about the direction their relationship was taking. She was trying to tell me about the six stages of a relationship as if they were a commonly accepted social phenomenon, but I know it's just something she made up. Angela says that it must have been Booth that balked at continuing on to the next one of the fictional stages of their relationship, which, according to Angela, is living together, but I strongly disagree with her. One thing I know about Booth: He is not a balker. He is a person who is committed to maintaining his relationships. He may not be the most logical man in the world, but in comparison to the men in this case, who presented themselves one way and then acted in another, I can see that the way Booth represents himself is the way he is. He is an honest man, and I know I can rely on him at work, so I see no reason why he should be any less reliable in a romantic relationship. His honesty and reliability make him an exceptional partner. I believe the correct adage is "what you see is what you get".

I know Booth was disappointed that Tessa didn't accompany him on vacation, but, as I explained to him, a vacation by oneself can be quite enjoyable. He made a joke about not coming back from Jamaica, but I know he'll be back next week. I don't think he'd be content if he was idle for too long. I think he has to work to be happy. Perhaps after he returns, he and Tessa can work out their issues, and he can continue to be happy in his relationship as well.

oooooooooo

It really wasn't the kind of vacation I was hoping for.

I was hoping to spend some quality time with my girlfriend...just me and her, laying on the sand by the beautiful blue ocean, or walking down the beach under the stars...you know, something real romantic.

But it didn't work out that way. I can't really say it was Angela's fault, although sometimes I do wish she'd mind her own damn business. But I guess I was seeing something different in our relationship than what Tessa saw, because I could tell that Tessa was not pleased at the idea of us living together. I mean, I wasn't all that crazy about it myself, but I was willing to take that step if she wanted it. I just wasn't prepared for how dead set against it Tessa was.

So I shouldn't have been surprised when I got home and the stuff she normally keeps at my apartment was gone, and she'd brought my stuff and left it at my place. Not even so much as a "screw you" and we were done with our relationship. And I wasn't surprised that she left, but I was surprised that I was relieved about it. I guess I knew we had nowhere left to go with how we felt about each other. We were just treading water, trying to get by until we were ready to do something different, with or without each other.

But I already had my ticket, so I decided to go to Jamaica anyway. Why not? I'm sure there are lots of beautiful single women there, and I can find a lot of stuff to do...fishing, swimming, kayaking, things like that. I can have fun by myself…and Tessa can stay here by herself and take care of her "work" issues.

And I was actually alright with going by myself when I saw Bones at Wong Foo's. I was surprised to find out that she actually goes on vacation from time to time, but she says she likes to go by herself. Then I got this wild idea...maybe I'd ask Bones to go with me. Yeah...that might work...she likes to hike and be outdoors...and she's a beautiful woman...but then I decide it might just be too weird. I mean, I just broke up with my longtime girlfriend, so it's maybe too soon to take Bones on vacation with me….right?

So I tell Bones that sometimes when I go on a trip, I think about not coming back. But what I don't tell her is that she's probably gonna be the reason I'm gonna come back this time...and that she may be the reason I'm not as upset about breaking up with Tessa as I should be….


	9. Chapter 9 The Prom

_**A/N: I'm so pleased that I got to co write another entry with the very talented AlphaGirl13. She has also published this entry on her story called How I See Things. Make sure you check out her stories! They are wonderful!**_

 _ **This is from Death of the Queen Bee.**_

 _ **Brennan speaks first...by AlphaGirl13**_

The stars descended from the ceiling, strung up on silver wires. I remembered those flashes of light, their contoured metal surfaces. They had hung up around the school for weeks after senior prom. The senior prom that I spent in the hospital.

I had said no to the offer for a date, but I had still been planning to go. It was an experience that most high school students enjoyed, and I felt the need to observe and analyze why the activity was anticipated so highly. I had wanted to be normal, to blend in with the other students. Maybe if I showed them I could enjoy a dance, they might stop calling me Morticia. Maybe high school could end favorably for me.

But the night before the dance, while trying on my dress, I hadn't heard my foster father calling my name. He came storming up the stairs and grabbed my arm, screaming at me. I tried to escape and he flung me down the steps.

I spent my senior prom in the hospital with several bruised and broken ribs. I had returned to school two weeks later, hiding the ugly bruises under my shirt and disguising the pain from everyone. I never told anyone why I didn't go to prom. But I moved out of that foster home as soon as I graduated.

I looked up at the stars, the shiny surfaces reflecting memories I had long tried to forget. I felt tears gather in the corners of my eyes, but I couldn't look away. I had just wanted to be accepted. And I had thought the dance was the way to do it. I never got to be a normal kid. My later childhood was spent in foster homes and horrible situations. I never got the opportunity to make friends, and bullying was a constant factor in my life. Even as an adult, people judged and alienated me. My high school class reunion was proof of that.

"That is so cool!" Booth exclaimed, grinning up at the silver decorations.

I clapped quietly, unable to look away from the stars. Tears burned in my eyes. High school had not been a pleasant experience for me, and I spent my adult life trying to forget the terrible things my classmates called me and the horrible situations I found myself in. I missed so many opportunities to be a normal kid. The tears threatened to spill over, but I just stood there, paralyzed by my old fears.

"Bones, you're tearing up." His voice reminded me that I wasn't alone. I wasn't a scared 18 year old. But that feeling of isolation really never left. There was always a part of me that felt lonely and scared.

"This was the-" I stuttered and reached towards him. I just wanted a hug. For some irrational reason, I craved contact. I didn't want to be alone anymore. But I pulled my hands back.

"prom I never-got to go to." He had offered himself to me, but I had said no. He deserved more than I could give, and I knew I hurt him. I couldn't expect comfort from him.

But Booth must have seen something in my face because he reached out tentatively, wrapping an arm around my waist. I finally gave in to the pain and wrapped my arms around his neck. Laying my head on his shoulder, I smiled and closed my eyes. He did still care about me. I had hurt him but he still cared about me. He accepted me, and he was my friend. I wasn't alone anymore.

Booth swayed to the music and I let him lead. There was something deeply comforting about his hands on my back and my head on his shoulder. I felt safe, and I wished it could always be like that. We could be friends. We could be partners. But I had destroyed our chance at being lovers. How I wished I hadn't hurt him. He loved me the way I was, and he had tried to make that clear. But I thought he deserved so much more. Yet he still stuck by me, even when I refused his offer. I know now how foolish I was; but I had no such wisdom then.

I tilted my head down and buried my face in Booth's shoulder. He was the reason I didn't feel so alone. He made me feel accepted and safe. I only wished I could give him what he had given me: a home.

Ooooooooo

 _ **Booth's point of view by 5546Laura**_

It's a good thing I'm a well trained professional FBI agent.

Bones and I were together, working on our first case together since that goddamn fiasco outside the Hoover. It was hard enough working with her, since I was still kind of unsure about how I felt about the whole thing. I was sad...I was embarrassed...I was anxious to put the whole ugly thing behind me. Of course, I still love her, but I'm a professional. I can put my personal feelings aside, right? Except we have to go undercover as a married couple for her class reunion. Jesus...really?

So we get there, and I have to say...I'm in shock. Here's Bones...a beautiful, super intelligent woman who's a world class scientist and a best selling author, and her classmates don't even appreciate her. She's probably the most famous person who ever graduated from her high school, and they're still calling her Morticia and giving her grief about being weird in high school. Well, I was ready to slap the shit out of some of them, until I remembered back to my high school days…

I'm ashamed to say that when I was in high school, I would've looked the other way if my friends had bullied someone like Bones. I desperately wanted to be one of the cool kids, and I guess I would've done most anything to be cool. It helped that I was an above average athlete, and I guess the girls liked me okay, but I was never quite sure that I fit in, so I went along with the crowd, even when I knew they were doing the wrong thing. I know now that I wouldn't have stepped in to stop someone from teasing Bones...God, what a hypocrite I am…I wonder what Bones would think of me if she knew what a coward I was…

We weren't having much luck figuring out the weapon that was used to kill our victim. We looked at all sorts of things, but nothing was quite right. Finally we decided to go to the dance they were having in the high school gym. Boy, did that take me back...I remembered what happened when I took Sherai Belipini to the junior prom. She was the hottest, coolest girl at school, and I thought she really liked me, but what she really liked was wearing my letterman's jacket to make her old boyfriend jealous...she left the prom with him, and I was left high and dry. I guess that's what happens when you try to be a cool kid. Stuff like that just makes me appreciate Bones even more. No matter what has happened between us, she'd never do something like that to me. That's just one more reason why I love her so much...

I think Bones was having a good time at the party. She was showing me her dance moves, and we were laughing and enjoying ourselves until they started playing that slow song. It made me so nervous, and, naturally, that was the song Bones wanted to dance to. Great, right? And while we're dancing I'm trying to keep from holding her too close...we didn't want to enter into that kind of relationship, remember? The guy in the song is singing about "my power, my pleasure, my pain"...and it just hits me in the gut. How does he know that this is what I'm feeling about Bones?

Finally, crazy old Mr. Buxley takes out this big ass knife and cuts a rope, and all of these silver stars drop from the ceiling.

"That is so cool!", I say, as I look over at Bones, hoping that she's enjoying it as much as I am, but she's getting really emotional. "Bones, you're tearing up!" I can't imagine what's wrong…I thought we were having fun.

She's blinking back tears as she looks up at the stars. "This is the prom that I never got to go to…."

I know at least one of the guys in her class asked her to the prom. There must be some story about why she didn't go, but she didn't want to share it with me, and that's okay, because the point is, she wanted to share this prom with me. Even with everything that's happened between us…she still wants me to be there for her. So I pull her close, and we dance cheek to cheek, and we both have the prom we always wanted to have. I can't help it...I feel like that's where she belongs...right next to me forever.

So, yeah, it hurts some to hold her that close when I know she doesn't feel about things the way I do, but she's my friend, and no matter what I'm gonna be there for her. She's never gonna have to be alone again, unless she wants to be. I'll always be there to take her home at the end of the dance.

 _We both appreciate hearing your comments about our co written stories. Thanks._


	10. Chapter 10 The Payment

_I'm excited to say that I got to do another collaboration with AlphaGirl13. She's so talented at understanding Brennan's point of view. Be sure to check out her stories. This entry is from Santa in the Slush._

 _Brennan's point of view by AlphaGirl13_

He's protesting, trying to talk Caroline out of the kiss. But I can't tear my eyes away from his face. It's going to be awkward, but it's just a kiss. A kiss does not mean anything. A kiss is not an act of love; it's just a kiss. I move in first, knowing he'll never start the act. My hands are on his shoulders and my eyes are closed. But as soon as my lips meet his, my hands immediately grab his collar.

 _Shit._

His lips are warm, soft. And I'm so screwed. This isn't awkward. It's a dream. My heart beats quickly and I feel the heat rise in my face. I tilt my head, but I have to stop myself from opening my mouth. I can't deepen this kiss. No tongue. God, no tongue. I'll never get myself back if I part my lips.

His hand lands on my hip, and my knees go weak. This effect he has on me, it was never supposed to get this far. He's my friend, my partner. I can not be attracted to him.

I lose count at 2 steamboats. I can't think. He's the only thing on my mind. I don't want to pull away. He's so warm. His lips are soft against mine, forgiving, accepting. He licks my lips and I feel a hotness flare in my core. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to turn me on. But God, it's a wonderful feeling. I part my mouth slightly, wanting so badly to deepen the kiss. Suddenly my gum starts to slip. I don't pull away fast enough, and it slides past my lips.

I look down awkwardly, trying to steady my racing heart. This isn't how I told myself it would happen. It should have been short, awkward, and clumsy. I was not supposed to pull away hungry for more.

"Was that enough steamboats?" I cross my arms, trying to calm my nerves. He shouldn't make me feel this way. I can't feel this way. I stare at the ground, unable to look Caroline in the eye.

"Plenty….a whole flotilla…" She says quietly.

Booth shifts from side to side. "I don't know what that means. But um...merry Christmas."

He doesn't make my heart race. No. That's just the endorphins from the kiss. A completely natural product of such close human contact. It was awkward. It had to be.

"It was like…" God what was it like? I try to tell myself it was awkward. But it wasn't. It was pleasurable. It was terrifying. It left me with unanswered questions that I had been avoiding for years. It's still making me confront the attraction that I know I feel so strongly.

""...kissing my brother." I finish. It had to be. It couldn't have been anything else. Surely Booth doesn't feel the heat that I do. He has no idea of the attraction.

"You sure must like your brother." Caroline says, somewhat cynically.

"She does." Booth assures her.

"I do." I nod and bring a hand to my mouth. I can still feel his lips. Mine are still tingling from the contact.

"The trailer's all arranged. You're good to go, Cherie. Merry Christmas." Her smile is forced as she walks out the door.

We stand awkwardly in silence for a moment. I'm searching for the right words to explain what we just did.

"I'm sure she feels really foolish right now."

"Yeah" is the only answer he can give me.

I look at him, trying to work through everything that just happened.

"Well hey I-I Um-I should- I should get back and see if um the forensic guy has got anything yet on Moussa-"

"Thats a good idea. Yeah I've got...stuff...to do...too. The- for- with bones." I can barely form a sentence but I cut him off. I need him out. I can't look at him. God, those lips.

"Alright. I understand. Completely." He rolls the gum to the front of his lips and leaves it there for a moment. And I think I'm going to lose all control over my body.

"Thanks for the- gum…"

I turn away from him and stiffen. He walks out quickly, and I sit tightly at my desk for a moment. When his footsteps fade away, I sit slowly back into the chair.

I'm screwed. I'm totally screwed. I could fight those feelings for him before now. But I don't know anymore. Before the kiss, I could tell myself those feelings could just be attracted friendship. But now I know it's more and I can't pretend. I enjoyed a very intimate connection with him. I won't be able to deny the attraction anymore. And I'm gone. Screwed. Absolutely, totally screwed.

Oooooooooo

 _Booth's point of view by 5546Laura._

I guess I've been a very good boy…

I walked into Bones' office today to tell her about Moussa's check being cashed into crisp fifty dollar bills. I was pretty excited, because I thought we had our guy, but she wasn't even listening to me. She was too busy hanging mistletoe from the ceiling of her office.

That's right...she was hanging mistletoe, and she doesn't even celebrate Christmas. I was thinking that was really strange, and then she tells me why….

She has to kiss me. In order to get the conjugal trailer for her family, Caroline told Bones she has to kiss me...on the lips...under some mistletoe. She says it's the only way to get what she wants.

All because Caroline is feeling 'puckish'. What the hell does that even mean? Playful and impish? Yeah, those are two words I would never associate with Caroline.

And I about fall over. Now, I know Bones might have thought I was upset because I didn't want to kiss her, but I'm here to tell you...that wasn't the problem at all. The problem was that thinking about kissing Bones on the lips under the mistletoe leads me to think about all sorts of un-Christmasy fantasies, mostly starring her and me lying naked on a warm beach somewhere...or maybe her and me lying naked on the sofa in her office, or her and me lying naked...well, you get the idea. Is it getting really warm in here? I'm starting to sweat like crazy. Shit...I think my pants are feeling snug under my zipper...

I know I'm sputtering and not making much sense when Bones tells me we're gonna kiss like French people meeting on the street, and I'm trying to slow my heart rate. I'm a sniper, dammit...I'm used to stressful situations. Then Caroline comes in and acts all innocent, congratulating me on finding a suspect in the Santa case as she practically pushes us closer together under the mistletoe. I look over at Bones, and I swear she looks like a cat getting ready to pounce on some poor unsuspecting mouse...but God, she is so beautiful, looking at me with those bright blue eyes. I forget about everything else but her.

She grabs the lapels of my jacket and plants one on me, and I've died and gone to Heaven. She smells so good... Her lips are so soft, and they taste so good, and I want more...so I gently lick her lips and she opens her mouth for me...so soft, so sweet, so tentative...her tongue gently caressing mine...she pulls me closer and my hands slide down her back to her hips as I caress her gently. I know we were supposed to be counting steamboats but I don't give a damn...I don't want this moment to ever end, but she finally pulls away. My heart was pounding so hard the blood is rushing through my ears and I can't hear a thing...I realize Caroline is telling me something, but I have no idea what. My lips are all tingly, like an electric current is running through me. My brain is just too addled to work right. God, I want Bones so bad...what the hell? A flotilla?

I shrug my shoulders, knowing that I should say something, but I have no idea what. "I don't know what that means, but Merry Christmas…." Are my feet touching the ground? God, I must be walking on air. Now my pants are really feeling tight. I just hope she can't see aroused I really am. That would be really embarrassing….

"…..like kissing my brother…" Bones says.

Caroline gives her a stunned look. "You must really love your brother…."

My mouth says, "She does…" but my heart and brain say, "No way!" She felt something besides brotherly love when we kissed. I know she did. The way she leaned into that kiss...the way she tilted her head to get a better angle at me...the way she reacted when I caressed her...she was enjoying that kiss as much as I was...and I know I should take a chance and tell her how I feel about her….

Except my brain won't form coherent sentences. "I need to...um...go…talk to...the forensics guy about...Moussa…" What the hell am I even talking about?

And she says she has to do stuff with bones. Really? That's all she can say? I know she felt something with that kiss...look how flushed she is…she probably couldn't even identify a femur as flustered as she is right now...not that I'm in any better shape...

I start to leave and then I realize she gave me a souvenir. "Uh...thanks for the gum…" and I go charging out of there like I'm on fire, and I try to find something to do so I don't spend the rest of the day thinking about kissing Bones….but what the hell am I gonna do for the rest of my life?

 _I hope you've enjoyed our collaborations. Please let us know what you think..._


	11. Chapter 11 The Favor

_From The Man on Death Row. Just Booth this time..._

I knew it as soon as I saw her in my office. I knew my weekend was gonna be shot to Hell. Seeing Amy Morton is like seeing a banshee...there's only gonna be trouble in her wake. She brings trouble along with her wherever she goes.

Now, don't get me wrong. I like her as a person, and she's pretty...just one look at that tiny skirt she's wearing, and you can see why the desk guy downstairs gave her a pass to my office. So it's nothing personal. It's just that, you know, she's a defense lawyer, and we work on the opposite sides of the law, in my opinion. I build a case, trying to help the prosecutors to convict someone, and then she tries to tear it down so her client gets away with things. I know that's her job, and she does her thing, and I do mine, but I got tired of always arguing about things with her. Finally, I decided just to avoid her altogether, because it's a lot easier that way.

But here she is, in my office, trying to get buddy-buddy with Bones. That's definitely not good. I don't need Amy giving Bones any tips on how to fill out her gun applications. Bones does not need a gun. She's a professor, not an FBI agent. I'll be the gun...I'll be the muscle in the partnership.

Amy's in my office to tell me that Howard Epps is gonna be executed in 36 hours. No problem for me...I think the bastard's guilty of killing that girl, but Amy's his new lawyer, and she's trying to stop the execution. She brings up old evidence, and then she says I ought to go look Epps in the eye and decide what I think. I wasn't gonna go, but then I thought...no big deal, right? I got nothing to prove. I'll go see guy, and I'll be satisfied that justice is being served.

All the visit did was to poke at my nagging little doubts, all because of one pubic hair. I still think he's guilty, but it doesn't hurt to be 110% sure. So I went to see Bones, and I asked her for a favor. I asked her to look at the evidence again, just to be sure, because I know she's the best, and I know that once she starts something, she sees it through to the end.

She agreed to do this for me...not for Amy, not for anyone else...for me. It's hard to explain how that makes me feel. To know that one of the best scientists in the world is going to do a personal favor just for me…

Bones dove right in, asking for the evidence file, X rays, the ME's report...everything. She even went with Amy went to see the judge so they could get the body exhumed. Like I told Amy...Bones has a mania for the truth, but I didn't mean that in a bad way. What I mean is that the truth is what drives Bones to do everything she does. She can't even stand little white lies, you know? She won't quit until she has all the answers, even if she has to work all night long, or all through the weekend. She decided to do that for me even though she'd never even heard of Howard Epps, but she wanted to make sure we had the truth, so that I'd know for certain that we were right.

Of course, since it's Bones, there were a few problems. Cullen was less than pleased with the idea that Bones was helping Amy to look into a case that we'd already closed, and I guess I'm lucky I still have a job. The murdered girl's parents were upset, too, because they thought we were trying to get Epps out of jail. In reality, Bones didn't care about any of those things. All she wanted was to find out the truth.

So we looked at all sorts of stuff, even down to pollen that Bones found on the skull. That pollen led us to a swamp out in the goddamn middle of nowhere. We started digging, and we found two more bodies. Howard Epps had killed the victim in the case we were looking into, and at least two other girls. I was all for letting the bastard die, but Bones was right...those girls needed to have their stories told. Someone loved them...someone missed them...and someone deserved to have justice for those girls.

Amy, Bones, and I went to see Epps in jail, and he told us that basically we did exactly what he wanted. He had it all planned out as soon as he knew Amy was gonna be his lawyer. He knew she'd come to see me, and that I'd ask Bones to help. We saved his life, and after the trials on the two new murder counts, and all of the appeals, he might live several years longer. It made me sick. I wanted to throw up as I realized we'd been had...we played right into his hands. Amy was so upset she ran out of the room in tears. And Bones...when he reached over to touch her hand, she broke his wrist. It's my turn to tell the truth...I was so happy she did that I offered to give her my gun. I just wished she could have broken his goddamn neck.

Bones and I went to Sid's after that, trying to enjoy what was left of our weekend. I was beat, and I was still angry, wishing that I had never asked Bones to look into that case on Epps...wishing that the son of a bitch was dead, even if it meant those girls didn't have their day in court for their stories to be heard. Then Bones tells me that it matters...the truth matters because we're all interconnected. One person's death can affect all of us, and that's why she does what she does. I kind of laughed it off, telling her that she shouldn't practice her Nobel Prize speech too much, but the truth was….I was in shock. I was humbled. I was in awe. This brilliant woman did a favor for me, working all weekend on this case for free, simply because I am her friend, without asking for anything from me in return. I'm amazed. I just hope I can continue to deserve her friendship.


	12. Chapter 12 The Refrigerator

_A/N: Thanks once again to the amazing AlphaGirl13, who co wrote this installment with me. From Girl in the Fridge. Booth speaks first, as written by me, and then Brennan, as written by AlphaGirl13_

Booth's Point of view:

Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror, and I wonder about the way things are. I wonder if I would really do anything just to close a case...you know, to just to get a conviction. At times, it seems like I'm playing a game, no holds barred. I mean, I'm a very competitive guy, and I play to win at everything, no matter what, whether it's a basketball game or a criminal investigation. So what would I do to win in a court of law? Would I bend the rules? Would I falsify evidence? Would I lie under oath? Of course not! That's the kind of stuff that can get a guy sent to jail. But then I think...would I betray a friend? Would I take advantage of someone who trusts me? And, yeah...I'm ashamed to admit it, but sometimes the answer is yes. Maybe it's one of those 'all's fair in love and war' deals...or maybe it's just me being a good for nothing bastard. I don't know...I wanna close those cases. I wanna get Cullen to notice me, so I can get a promotion...but is it worth damaging my friendship with Bones?

Our case was really tough. It was hard enough proving that the sleazeballs took advantage of a helpless girl, chaining her up and then drugging her with painkillers until she died. The other problem was we were up against a guy that Bones knew...one of her old anthropology professors, and I guess, from what she said, he used to be her lover, too, for awhile. I'm not sure how I feel about that, because I think he took advantage of her when she was naive, and for some reason, that really makes me angry. I mean, who does that kind of shit? Take a vulnerable young girl as a lover just because you're her teacher and she trusts you? Yeah, Stires is a no good jerk. Anyway, I think the thing was, Bones was trying to prove to him that she was a better scientist than he was, because she's really competitive, too, and she never, ever wants to lose at anything.

I'll admit...Stires is a likable guy, you know...the jury consultant says that people 'love' him because he speaks to the average person so that they feel like they understand where he's coming from. Bones, on the other hand, doesn't give a flying flip if people like her or not. She's gonna stick to the scientific facts, no matter what, and nothing's gonna change her mind, including bitchy jury consultants. That's what makes her Bones.

And that's good, except...what are simple scientific facts to her genius mind are like ancient Greek literature to the rest of the world. She was spouting off all those facts when she was testifying, and she knew what she was talking about, but nobody else did. It made that joker Stires look like he was a great guy, you know, because he cared about making the jury understand. He was all touchy-feely, nicey-nicey, and the jury was a lot more comfortable with him. As far as the jury was concerned, he was a regular guy, and Bones was a robot reading the encyclopedia.

Yeah, that's unfair, but it's true. The jury doesn't get to know someone over a period of time. They just go by the first impression, and their first impression of Bones was that she was a cold, unfeeling genius. She was our expert, and if the jury didn't care about what she was saying, we were sunk, and I wouldn't close this case.

So...I decided to put myself in a position to win. I told the prosecutor to ask Bones about her missing parents. I'm not really proud of what I did, but I also didn't want the Costellos to get away with murder. I'll admit...I was being a royal jerk. I wasn't sure how Bones would react, but I thought the risk was worth it. I was in competition mode, and I wasn't about to let those lousy animals beat me at my own game.

We reconvened in the courtroom, and the prosecutor asked Bones about the damage to the victim's legs, and she used these huge scientific words. I could tell just by looking at the jury that they just didn't care anymore. The prosecutor could feel it, too. He glanced at me, and I nodded yes...take the plunge….and so he did, asking Bones about whether or not wanting the truth about her parents' disappearance made her what she is...an extremely well respected forensic anthropologist. She balked...she doesn't like to talk about that part of her life, but the judge told her she had to answer.

She knew who'd told the prosecutor...it could only have been me. The look she gave me...those icy blue eyes boring right through to my soul...it was the original 'if looks could kill' look. I knew I was going to be in trouble with her, and I wondered if maybe I had gone too far. Would it be worth it if I closed the case and lost her friendship? She's part of the reason I close so many cases to begin with. I held my breath as she started to talk….

"I see a face on every skull. Maggie Schilling is real to me. We can't break her down into little pieces. It doesn't matter if you think I'm boring or obnoxious, because I don't matter. What I feel doesn't matter. Only Maggie matters…"

….and I realize the jury is so totally into what Bones is saying. They're listening, and they're feeling what she feels. That was when I knew we were going to win this case.

After court I sprinted out to see her. I couldn't wait to tell her the good news.

"Bones, the Costellos are trying to cop a plea to a charge that won't mean the death penalty!" But I'm not sure she heard me, or if she did, she was so mad at me she just didn't give a damn about the Costellos any more.

"You had no right! There are some things that are private!" She was livid...I'm glad she wasn't packing heat, or I'd be dead. So I tried to give her an excuse for my behavior...I tried to justify my invasion of her privacy.

"Yeah, maybe you're right, but you know what? This was my case, too, alright? So nothing personal."

I know it was personal to her, but I told myself that she'd get over it, that she wouldn't hold a grudge...she'd understand. It's all about winning the case, right? The end justifies the means...or at least I hope so, because I was notified almost immediately about another case, and I was definitely gonna need her help with it.

"Hey, Bones…" I began as I stuck my head into her office, hoping not to get it bitten off.

She glared at me, her somber expression warning me that I'd better watch my step. "What is it? I'm not feeling very forgiving…"

"Yeah, I know...but we have a case." I flashed a dimple at her for good measure...most women can't resist my charm smile.

She almost did, though. She had to think about it a few seconds before she decided to come with me to the crime scene.

It was a very quiet ride to the Washington Monument and up the construction elevator until we got to the section where the body was. God, the crime scene was awful...someone had burned a body up there. Bones was being clinical...explaining about gender and age and accelerants, but I wasn't really listening. My conscience was bothering me. Bones had helped me a lot with solving cases...probably more than she really had to. She's the reason I've been successful...and I betrayed her trust. Dammit! How come I can't let it go? We won, didn't we? It was worth it, right?

"Hand me my bag." She was pointing at my feet, and I finally figured out what she wanted.

"Yeah, sure. Listen, do you want my coat or something? It's really cold up here." Good one, genius boy...give her your coat...then what will you do?

"If I did, I'd ask for it." Brrr...it just got a lot colder up here. Time to make my apology. "Yeah, sorry...and, um...I'm sorry."

She checked me over like I'm some sort of specimen or something. I guess she was trying to decide if I was sincere. "You had something to accomplish. You found a logical way of getting what you needed. I probably would've done the same thing."

I heaved a huge sigh of relief as we smiled at each other. She had forgiven me, and we were going to be okay.

I decided then and there that no case would ever be more important than our friendship, and I would never, ever do anything to betray her trust again. She's too important to me...I need her friendship too much to ever risk losing it just to win case.

000000000

Brennan's point of view:

I don't know a lot about interpersonal relationships. I don't know the all the rules or restrictions, but I thought I knew the basics. I thought a painful memory shared in confidence was to be kept between friends. I thought some things were crossing a metaphorical line. Now I have to reevaluate. Booth seems to take anything I know about people and just destroy my expectations. Whether he improves upon my low standards of people, or makes me once again question my trust, he always changes my perspective.

In that light I ask myself, do I really hate him as much as I let on? No. I don't. But I don't understand the rules that allowed him to betray my trust in the way he did. Where are the rules that specify when it's alright to share a damaging past or a painful secret? Where are the rules that tell me when I should forgive and when I need to preserve my own well being? I don't know, and I really hate not knowing.

When that prosecutor asked me about my parents, I felt betrayed. I never asked Booth not to say anything, so technically he had not betrayed my trust. And yet, I couldn't stop the thoughts of anger and mistrust that clouded my mind. I suppose implying silence and confidence was not enough; I had to specifically ask for it.

I looked at Booth, knowing he was the only way for the prosecutor to obtain such information. Too many emotions clouded my rational thought, though I assume that is what the jury consultant wanted: me seeming confused and raw to the jury. An average, vulnerable person. But that's not who I am. My emotions are well guarded and well hidden. At least I thought they were.

I didn't want to talk about it. My past should stay just that: my past. I struggle with the loss of my parents every day, and I don't need to do so in front of other people. They disappeared for whatever reason, and I am not going to see them again. I have accepted that. Pain is fleeting, irrational, and unhelpful. There is no benefit to holding onto pain; it only makes one angry. So I dealt with my pain. I wrapped myself up in my work and my studies. I didn't dwell on the past. At least, I tried not to.

"Dr. Brennan. Your parents disappeared when you were fifteen. And no one's ever found out what happened to them. Isn't that correct?"

But the prosecutor wouldn't leave the issue alone, and the judge had to step in and ask me to answer. I'd been quiet for too long. I made eye contact with Michael before I spoke. He had flinched. He was no longer telling the truth. All of the stories he was making up in his testimonies were stretches, implausible explanations of hard evidence. He was not the man I thought he was.

"That's correct."

"It must be very painful. Is it fair to say that you've been trying to solve the mystery of their loss your whole life?"

"Do I want answers? Yes. As to how that's affected my behavior, which I assume is what you're trolling for, I don't put much stock in psychology."

"Is that why you wrap yourself in techno speak? So you don't have to feel how these victims remind you of your own parents?"

"How I feel doesn't matter! My job doesn't depend on it!"

"But it's informed by it. Or are you as cold and unfeeling as you seem?"

There was that word again: cold. I can't count how many times I've been called that in my life. I try not to let on, but that description always stings just a little. I am guarded for a reason. While emotions are just chemical signals in the brain responding to stimuli, I know they exist. I don't deny my emotions; I just deal with them on my own, in my own way, in my own time. That does not mean I am cold. I am just careful. I know how to feel; I have known pain, fear, comfort, attraction, betrayal. And just like the physical scars on my body, just because you do not see them, does not mean they are not there.

"I see a face on every skull. I can look at their bones and tell you how they walked, where they hurt. Maggie Schilling is real to me. The pain she suffered was real. Her hip was being eaten away by infection from lying on her side. Sure, like Dr. Stires said, the disease could contribute to that if you take it out of context! But you can't break Maggie Schilling down into little pieces. She was a whole person who fought to free herself. Her wrists were broken from struggling against the handcuffs. The bones in her ankles were ground together because her feet were tied. And her side, her hip, and her shoulder were being eaten away by infection! And the more she struggled, the more pain she was in. So they gave her those drugs to keep her quiet. They gave her so much it killed her."

Facts. Science. Proof. Those things should have been enough. But it wasn't. So I turned to face the jury.

"These facts cannot be ignored or dismissed because you think I'm boring or obnoxious because I don't matter. What I feel doesn't matter. Only she matters. Only Maggie."

Memories flooded my mind. Memories of wanting to live. Memories of fighting until blood dripped from injured hands. Memories of refusing to give in. Just like Maggie. I wanted to close my eyes. I wanted everything to fade away and for silence to surround me. I felt closed in, trapped. Just like I had in that car trunk. I could so easily have ended up like Maggie. I could have died in that car and my foster parents would have just tossed my body away. Too many repressed memories have been dragged up during this case. Too many confusing emotions. Too much fear.

So I focused on the facts. The proof. I am not Maggie. I survived. I created a life for myself; I got away.

Only the victim. My emotions and personal experiences don't have any bearing on a case. I present hard facts, undeniable evidence. Of course my past influenced my future. That is the very definition of the a time line. However, I don't see how my parents' disappearance made me the scientist I am today. My studies, my intelligence, those are what contributed to my passion for science.

I don't understand why I'm less appealing to a jury. The only thing that should matter in a case are the facts. The science, the irrefutable evidence in the crime, should be enough to persuade them. Their decision is not supposed to be influenced by how I'm dressed or how physically attractive my opponent is. I could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that those people killed Maggie Schilling. And yet it took my past being exposed and my emotions bared for them to see for the jury to actually convict.

It was too much. Too much for me to be up there in front of dozens of people, watching me, judging me. I don't talk about my parents with Angela; why the hell would I talk about them to an entire room of people? The short answer is that I didn't. I avoided the issue; I didn't talk directly about them or my experience. As soon as we were dismissed, I walked quickly out of the courtroom.

Michael tried to stop me. I hesitated and turned, briefly contemplating responding to him. But he had also betrayed me. I had shared information with him, bounced ideas and theories off of him, and only later did he decide to tell me he was my opponent. No, actually, Booth had to tell me. Michael didn't even have the decency to tell me face to face.

So I turned silently from my old professor and walked away.

I don't understand the motives of people. Why withhold information? Was his aim to hurt me? Was he trying to get inside information on my findings or the case? Well, the bastard succeeded. He gained access to my private methods and processes.

"Bones."

There it was. That insufferable nickname. And yet, it no longer irritates me. It's almost...sweet.

His voice stopped me. And as I turned, I tried to find the words to express my emotions. He couldn't have possibly known about my personal experiences. He couldn't have known of the pain I'd seen, and yet I still found myself hurt and confused by his comments to the prosecutor. But Booth kept talking, not giving me a chance to speak.

"The Costellos are trying to cop a plea to a charge that won't mean the death penalty. You know they're going down."

I should have been happy that we were likely to win, but I wasn't. I was too focused on the questioning I had just fled from, and yet I wasn't focused at all. My thoughts were everywhere; the chemicals in my brain were causing torrents of emotions. Anger. Hate. Betrayal. Pain. Confusion.

Anger. I could focus on anger. I could understand anger.

"You had no right!" I spoke harshly, releasing the fury I had been withholding. "There are things that are private!"

But when I continued, I heard my voice break, betraying the concealed pain that I felt so keenly. I had told him those things in confidence. I had trusted him...

"Yeah. Maybe you're right. But you know what? This was my case too. Alright, so, nothing personal?"

That made me hesitate. His case too? Was he making a logical argument? I had almost grown accustomed to his emotional responses. And yet, there he was, giving me a rational reason for his break of confidence. He had needed to close his case. He needed a conviction, and I was metaphorically the weak link in the chain.

Without waiting for an answer, Booth walked away.

00000

I sat at my desk, staring at a picture of my parents. The photo was more than 10 years old, but it was one of the few things things I had left of them. Most of their belongings and family heirlooms had been left in the house when I was put into the foster system. I have tried to track down some of it to no avail. Who ever moved into our old house probably trashed a lot of our things.

I sat silently, letting the memories play out. The picnic at the park was my favorite. It was my fifteenth birthday. I smiled slightly at the picture, silently reliving my best memories.

Angela walked in, and I slid the picture back into my drawer. She spoke quietly, making small talk and trying to get me to go out. But I didn't feel social. I just wanted to focus on facts and science. So I declined, truthfully saying I just wanted to work. Spending time alone in bone storage always helps me sort through emotions I don't understand.

But Booth quickly followed, interrupting my quiet thoughts.

He whistled to get my attention. "Hey Bones."

"What is it? I'm not feeling very forgiving."

"Yeah I know. But, uh...we have a case."

He smiled at me. That charm smile that he always uses to try to get me on his side. I hesitated. A case. He was extending a peace offering, an olive branch. Even I could understand the significance and anthropological importance of a gift. Booth must have felt that he offended me, and so felt the need to make up for it with something he thought I would like.

His case too. He had said it was his case too. He needed to convict those people, either for his professional career or his personal balance sheet. Perhaps it was both. I suppose there was some merit in the jury consultant's words. It's plausible that the vocabulary I was using was too advanced for the jury.

So I stood up. I grabbed my kit, and I went with him. I accepted the offer. I accepted his non-verbal apology. But I didn't respond. We stepped onto the construction elevator in silence. I thought about his words. _It was my case too._ So if he could give me a logical argument as to why he would betray my trust, did that excuse his actions? What were the rules pertaining to when disclosing private information was deemed ethical versus cruel? I closed my eyes and fought against my own thoughts. But I couldn't chase away the one statement that kept returning. _You never would have done that._

I tried to tell myself that I would have. If the conviction had rested on Booth's past being revealed, I would have told the prosecutor. _You would never have done that._ But I actually wouldn't have betrayed his trust so blatantly. It was illogical. Why would I preserve his trust over convicting murderers? _Because you have no friends._ A snide voice in my head continued to berate me. As much as I hated it, I knew I would not have done to Booth what he did to me. I had been alone since I was fifteen, and I was an outsider before that. I only had Angela and Booth. I had to preserve those relationships, or I would be alone again. I would never intentionally reveal him the way he did to me. But, I could still see the logic in his reasoning. He deserved to be forgiven. So I would forgive him. I have forgiven him.

Booth touched my shoulder and I jolted from my thoughts. We stepped off the elevator onto the platform. And the first words I spoke to him were facts concerning the body. I listed off observations while he jotted them down on index cards. I bent over and reached to examine the eye sockets. But my bag was by Booth's feet, and in it, my gloves.

"Hand me my bag."

"Yeah, sure. Listen, do you want my coat or something? It's really cold up here."

A typical male show of attempted chivalry. I wasn't cold, and I didn't need his stereotypical efforts to appease me.

"If I did, I'd ask for it."

He looked surprised. Perhaps I spoke too harshly.

"Yeah, sorry...and, um...I'm sorry."

He stuttered an apology. A verbal one this time, lacking anthropological significance or typical male tendencies.

I looked him up and down. He deserved forgiveness. He did something I would never do, but he wasn't me, and he was logical in his execution and his reasoning.

"You had something to accomplish. You found a logical way of getting what you needed." I said quietly.

But then I paused. I was unsure what to say next. What were the rules to this? Should I tell him that I would never repeat his actions? Should I explain how I had too much to lose to betray a friend like he had revealed me?

"I probably would've done the same thing."

I didn't explain anything. I lied.


	13. Chapter 13 The True Truth

_I was again fortunate in being able to work on this story with the extremely talented AlphaGirl13, who wrote Brennan's point of view. From Man in the Fallout Shelter. First Booth's pov, then Brennan._

I was sitting in my favorite chair, finally relaxing in my own home late on Christmas night, enjoying a beer, and flipping through the channels on the television. Jesus…120 channels, and there was nothing interesting on...not even NCIS reruns. No bowl games, no hockey, just a blow out basketball game….I stopped channel surfing as something interesting popped up...but no way. I am not going to watch rugby or Australian rules football, or whatever the hell that was. I'm not that desperate. I went through the channels again, hoping to find an old movie, but it looked like I was out of luck. I mean, at this stage of the game, I might even be willing to watch Rudolf again. Parker loves that movie, so I must have seen it fifty times over the last month. I guess I've got it memorized by now. There just wasn't anything on television worth watching tonight, so I turned off the set. I sat in my chair a few minutes longer, slumping back as I finally realized just how tired I really was. I was really beat, and it was midnight. Might as well hit the sack. I was really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.

I drained my beer, and got up to put the bottle in the kitchen, groaning as I tried to stretch out my stiff back and sore neck muscles. Two nights of sleeping on the floor of Dr. Goodman's office had done a number on my back. Nothing like a forced Christmas quarantine to make a guy feel old, it seems. God, I'm so achy...now I know how Pops must feel everyday. But I guess in the long run it was worth it. Just remembering how much Parker enjoyed playing with the robot that Zack had given me this morning makes me grin like an idiot. Parker has officially proclaimed that his dad is the coolest dad in the world because of that crazy thing. He likes to make the robot do push ups and back flips, even if it doesn't always do what it's told. I know I would've never been able to find that kind of gift at a toy store, especially since I had waited until the last minute this year to do my shopping for his gift. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be cooped up for a couple of days in the lab with that bunch of squints after all. I've gotten to know them all a little bit better, and I received a great gift to pass along to Parker.

Of course, Rebecca didn't see it that way. To hear her tell it, I deliberately asked Zack and Hodgins to expose me to a deadly airborne lung fungus from the remains I'd brought to the lab a few days before Christmas, just so I could personally screw up her social life by ruining her Christmas plans. Seriously, how unreasonable could one woman possibly be? And then she acts like I should be especially grateful because she lets me see Parker for a few hours on Christmas Day. He's my son, too _,_ and it's no skin off her ass, is it? I mean, all she had to do was to drop Parker off at Sid's place. She didn't have to see me at all, except when she came to pick him up. Then it was bitch, bitch, bitch about how she had to change her plans around just for me to see my kid. Finally I just decided not to worry about it anymore. I couldn't do anything to fix the situation, you know? I think she just really enjoys being mad at me, so there you go...Merry fucking Christmas, Rebecca.

So now I'm lying in my own bed, and I know I should be asleep, but it's not working out that way. I keep tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, but I can't seem to relax. Everytime I close my eyes, there she is….there's Bones, standing on the steps of the lab platform, watching all of us rush away after we got the all clear from the lung fungus tests. I mean, I was all for hightailing it out of there myself, but when I turned around to say goodbye...it was like it wasn't even Bones I was looking at. I was looking at some sad, scared teenaged girl who was watching the people she loved abandon her all over again. The squints, and me, too, I guess, are the only thing close to a family she has left. Nobody came to see her at the lab last night during the visiting hours. All the rest of us had family or friends come to see us, but she doesn't have anybody, you know? Of course, she was shrugging it off, acting like it was no big deal that we were leaving and she'd be alone, because that's how she handles the sticky emotional stuff. She told me to go have Christmas with Parker, and not to worry about her, but I just couldn't let it go. I took a deep breath, and invited her to meet me and Parker at Wong Foo's. I was pretty sure she'd say no, but I had to ask. I just couldn't stand to see her looking so lonely like that on Christmas Day. I guess I wanted her to know that someone cared about her.

I was kind of surprised when Bones showed up a couple of hours later this afternoon. She said it was just to tell me about Ivy Gillespie and her granddaughter, but I think maybe she realized she actually wanted some company today, it being Christmas and all. And the ironic part? The woman who did nothing but piss and moan about how gifts are used by people to establish 'anthropological hierarchies' on a 'whole holiday devoted to the pursuit of status' gave Ms. Gillespie the best gift that could ever be given to anyone. Ms. Gillespie was able to love and cherish Careful Lionel's memory again because Bones took the time to look her up and tell her the truth about what had really happened to him, not to mention giving Ms. Gillespie's granddaughter an old penny worth a fortune. Of course, Bones acted like it was no big deal that she gave that woman the love of her life back after all these years. To her, it's just what she does, and that's just who she is. In her mind, she's got to use the talents she has to find the truth for other people.

It was time for me and Parker to leave, so we said our goodbyes. Parker waved and smiled, and Bones waved back, giving us a smile of her own. I think maybe that's my gift from her. She may finally be willing to see me as a friend...as someone she can trust. I hope so, because the truth is...I can't think of a finer person to be my friend.

Merry Christmas, Bones.

oooooooooo

I'm sitting on my bed and I can't seem to make up my mind. There are dozens books sitting in front of me and I can't choose one to read. Standing up, I walk over to the shelf and grab my old college advanced anatomy textbook. But one glance at the first page and I promptly slam it closed with a frustrated sigh. Setting it harshly on the bed, I lay back and close my eyes, wondering what Booth is doing right now. Is he still with his son? Or is he perhaps sitting at alone at his apartment? He would hate to be alone on Christmas. I scrunch up my face, holding my eyes closed as tightly as I can. _I_ hate being alone on Christmas. I hate the reminders of my old life. Shaking my head, I sit up and walk briskly out of my apartment. Wallowing in self pity and sorrow are not conducive to forgetting pain.

I climb into my car and drive without thinking. I turn at some intersections, and I drive straight through others. Unwanted memories flood my mind as street signs whizz past. My mother smiles at me as I shyly unwrap a small gift from under the tree. Russ grins mischievously as he holds my stocking high above my head. My father laughs heartily while I smile stupidly at a new anatomy puzzle.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I slowly stop the car. The empty street stretches out in front of me as I grip the steering wheel. The gifts from that Christmas are still sitting, unopened, in my office. Booth would tell me to open them. Sighing, I pull off to the side of the road and rub my eyes.

When Christmas comes each year, I'm different. I'm the same logical, unbreakable anthropologist, but it's more of an act than usual. The pain that I felt so keenly that Christmas has faded over the years, but pain never truly goes away. A single flower petal can remind a man of a lost loved one, a song can remind a girl of a lover long gone, or a string of brightly colored lights can remind a scientist of the girl she used to be.

Sighing, I shake my head to clear my thoughts and pull back into the empty street. I drive slowly to the Jeffersonian, skirting along back roads and avoiding what little traffic peppers the streets. Booth would tell me to open the gifts. He would ask me what I'm so afraid of, what I'm still waiting for. Honestly, I can't answer those questions. I couldn't bear to get rid of the gifts, so I took them with me when I entered the foster system. I was never able to keep them in my apartment, so I've locked them in a cabinet in my office. And I haven't taken them out in years. Until tonight I guess.

The lab is dark and quiet. Everyone has gone home to their families for Christmas and there's a dark nostalgia to the atmosphere. Memories dance across the dark crevices of the lab as I stand nervously in the front hallway. My breathing hitches and I try to sort through the images flooding my mind.

I see torn wrapping paper and glowing lights. I see stuffed stockings and steaming cookies. I see my parents growing quiet and secretive. I see Russ walking away. I see years of Christmases with strangers and then years alone alone. I see years of fleeing the country, of digging in muddy pits. The final memories that play in my mind are the scenes of my colleagues touching their hands to the glass that separated them from their families. No one had come to see me. There was no one for me to see.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can still see his smile. The one he had the entire time we were at Wong Foo's. He had offered me an invitation to join him, and after some consideration, I had accepted the offer. This is the first Christmas I haven't spent alone since my last year in the foster system. He had offered. He knew about my parents, and yet he didn't press. He only offered himself to me. He offered his companionship, his trust. No one but Angela had given me that in a long time.

I open my eyes and sigh. Flicking the light switches, I stand silently in front of the forensics platform. Booth gave me someone to trust, someone to talk to. Even I can tell there's a difference between our friendship and my friendship with Angela. He has given me little pieces of himself. He has shared things with me and trusted me. And maybe that's his Christmas present to me, giving me someone to trust. Giving me a friend.

I watch the lights slowly click on. I hesitate; the gifts are a beast I have yet to face. But Booth gave me the courage to at least try. He offered me his strength without asking for anything in return. I can't think of a finer person to be my friend.

Merry Christmas, Booth.


	14. Chapter 14 Stubbornness

_From the Woman at the Airport._

 _Brennan's point of view:_

I pick up the skull again, turning it over in my hands, running my gloved fingers across it as I stare into its vacant eye sockets. "Who are you?" I whisper, "and why did you do this to yourself?" Everything that we could use to identify this woman...everything that made her face uniquely beautiful, has been chiseled or carved away by some barbaric plastic surgeon who couldn't or wouldn't say no to her request for more surgeries.

I placed the skull under the magnifier, hoping to find even the smallest trace of a substance that will give me a clue to her identity. "Why did you hate yourself so much?" Again I ask a question for which there is no answer, but I do know, without a doubt, that she must have hated herself. To do this much damage to the underlying architecture of her skull...to try to change the bone structure wrought by millions of years of inherited genetic traits is simply unimaginable to me. In trying to look beautiful, she changed herself so much that she made herself forgettable. She was trying to be a movie star in the land of movie stars, but instead of being able to stand out in the crowd, she became part of the crowd. Booth says that Hollywood is a hard place to make a living as an actor, because everyone is so beautiful. I guess she was just trying to compete with everyone else, but she turned herself into someone who looked just like everyone else instead.

"I know you were young...even with all the surgeries you've had, I can tell by your skull sutures. You must have been in a lot of pain…" A lot of pain physically, because these surgeries were so close together in time. She barely had time to heal before she undertook another change….and a lot of pain emotionally as well. All of these surgeries amount to a type of self harm. Perhaps she thought she could gain happiness by changing what she looked like...maybe if she looked different, she might feel different, but it seems she was not successful in achieving happiness.

Now, all I have left to work with after all of the surgeries have been done is an anonymous skull that has been reshaped into blandness. No one deserves to be forgotten. This woman needs closure, as does her family. She once had a family that cared for her, and they might not even know she's missing...or that she's dead. Even if they're looking for her, they might not be able to find her, because they don't know what she looked like before she died.

I know what it's like to be anonymous...ignored...to have no one care if you're missing or even if you're alive. I also know what it's like to have a missing family member...to not know whether or not a family member is alive or dead. I can't quit searching for an answer until I find the truth for this woman. I know that perhaps this woman did a lot of things in her life that people didn't approve of, but she deserves to keep her identity. She deserves to get her name back. She deserves to have people know that she once lived, and I can't give up in my quest to give that back to her, no matter how long it takes.

Oooooooooo

Booth's point of view:

I stood in the doorway of the lab, watching my partner as she studied the skull she held in her hands. She was whispering to it softly as her gentle fingers worked their way across the bone. It's fascinating to watch her. I have no idea what she saw, but I could tell by the frown on her face she wasn't happy about it.

She said that the plastic surgeons who did this to our victim are butchers, but I think that's extreme. Brennan is a beautiful woman. She's been blessed by nature and genetics. Not all of us are so lucky, and the people who want to be movie stars...they have to be exceptionally beautiful. A lot of people are desperate for that kind of success, and they'll do whatever they need to do to achieve it. Of course, bones mean a lot to my partner Bones, and the idea that people would just want to tear a skull apart and start over is almost more than her genius brain can fathom.

I cleared my throat a bit so I wouldn't startle her. "Hey, Bones...I know you don't want to give up on this case, but Cullen says he thinks it's a lost cause. He wants us to turn the bones back over to the LA field office and come home. We've got nothing else to go on, and I don't know what else to do…" And you know what? She said no, she wasn't leaving….that I could go on home, but she would stay and make her own arrangements to get home. She wanted to find out who that woman used to be.

Now, I gotta tell ya...there are times when her stubbornness can drive me up a wall. I mean, she can be so pigheaded about the most asinine things, but this was different. This time, she was looking out for the rights of our victim, and nothing was gonna change her mind. She told me that she knows what it's like to be ignored and forgotten, and that nobody deserves that...and she's right. "Now I know why you hate anonymous death so much.", I said. "I'll call Cullen. Maybe we can scrounge up a few more leads. There may be a few more people to talk to...places to look…"

Bones gave me a shy grin of thanks. "I don't want you to get in trouble…", she starts. "I want to see if Zack and Hodgins can help me figure out what kind of tool made this cut on her mandible. Maybe we can track down the surgeon."

I guess there's a chance that I might get scolded for staying a few days longer after we've been recalled, but I also know, deep down inside, that even if I get in trouble with Cullen, it'll be worth it as long as me and Bones can give that poor woman her identity back.

It's our job. That's what we do.


	15. Chapter 15 The Superhero

_A/N: I'm so pleased that I was able to collaborate with the very talented Alphagirl13 in writing another chapter for this story. She's amazing! First, Booth's point of view by me, and then Brennan's point of view by alphagirl 13._

 _From Superhero in the Alley_

Booth:

God, I hate cases like this. Bones and her team at the lab just told me that our victim was a teenage kid. So I gotta ask myself...why was this kid wearing what looks like a bondage outfit? Weird, right?

Bones went with me when I had to break the news to Warren Granger's parents. He was a young man, just starting out in life, with his whole future ahead of him, and now he's gone. I hate when I have to do that sort of thing. I snarked at her a bit on the way there, telling her she didn't have to come with me, but I was secretly pleased that she wanted to come instead of studying the ancient bones of some woman they found on another continent. We're finally getting that partner thing down, I guess. Bones acts like she wants us to spend time working together. Once she's on a case, she throws herself into it with her whole heart. That's what makes her such a good partner.

We were standing in Warren's bedroom after his stepdad left us alone, and then it hit me. The kid who died and Bones had a lot in common. He spent a lot of time alone, just like she tends to do. It looked like he also spent a lot of time in a fantasy world, writing graphic novels about fighting crime and ending injustice. Now I know Bones was kind of upset when I suggested that her novels are her way of escaping to her own fantasy world, but it seems like the truth to me. She denies it, but she does the same thing Warren did. She writes fiction stories about characters who fight crime and seek justice. She takes people she knows and tweaks their personalities a bit to make it seem like they're somebody new, just like he did. I know Bones wants to be a crimefighter. That's why she goes out in the field with me. She doesn't wear a superhero identity, but she's a lot like Warren in so many other ways.

Or so I thought at first. Warren wanted to have super powers, so he wrote about them in his Citizen 14 stories. Bones, on the other hand, has real superpowers. I mean, it's not like she can run faster or jump higher than anyone else in the world, but she can think at lightning speed. I've never known anyone who knows as much about science as she does. She's a genius, and fortunately for me, she's chosen to use her superpowered brain to help me fight crime. Imagine being able to find out the age, sex, and race of an assailant just by looking at a thin piece of bone shaving. She can look at the way a person stands and she can tell if they've been injured by a fall or by a fist. She knows by looking at the bones of someone how they lived and how they died. She's such an amazing person...

And in the end, it turned out that maybe Warren really was a superhero. He was sick with cancer, to the point where he probably wasn't gonna get better, and the whole time he hid his physical pain from his mom and stepdad. Warren tried to stand up to a man twice his size...a man who was abusing his wife. I guess Warren figured he didn't have anything left to lose, since he was dying anyway. That's when Bones said that Warren was a lot like me, because he was trying to make a difference before he died. Like I said, she has superpowers. She can read minds...she knows that's what I want out of life, too.

I'm glad Bones is gonna be there to help me make that difference.

Oooooooooo

Brennan:

I'm sitting at my writing desk, a glass of red wine sitting in it's usual place next to my computer. Letting my eyes roam over the polished wooden surface, I can see why Booth said I'm like Warren. Everything on my desk has it's place. I have one jar full of pens, a pad of paper and a perfectly sharpened pencil, my writing laptop, and a circle of slightly worn wood where I always set my wine glass.

But writing is simply a hobby for me. No, I saw far more resemblance between Booth and Warren than I see between him and myself. Warren was a good kid. He was genuinely concerned for others, and his only wish was to make a difference before he died. The way I see it, that desire was very similar to Booth's "cosmic balance sheet" ideas. He wants to atone for perceived sins before he dies. He wants to help people, to make a difference.

Though Warren did not manage to kill or directly bring "The Twisted" to justice, his death led us to the abusive son of a bitch.

That aside, Warren was so selfless that he attacked a man twice his size to save a woman he barely knew. That is something Booth would do, and probably has done. So therein lies the similarity between the two. Their selflessness and sense of duty and responsibility.

I, on the other hand, shared very little with Warren other than a talent for writing. I do not use my books as an escape, they are simply a side hobby of mine. I do not envision myself fighting crime; I do that in the real world every day. And I most certainly do not think of myself as possessing superpowers. I am of above average intelligence, but in no way am I "superhuman."

Besides, of the two of us, Booth is far closer to possessing superpowers than I. He likes to compliment me, but I know that when it comes to "superhuman" attributes, he far out ranks me. I have nothing but my intelligence and my martial arts skills. He possesses the uncanny ability to read people, his incredibly marksmanship, and his emotions. Yes, I do believe that is a superpower. One I will never possess. His emotions dictate everything he does. They allow him to give mercy, to understand a helpless victim, and to ultimately decide what he feels is good versus evil.

Booth is far more similar to Warren than I am. But he will continue insisting it is the other way around.

But no matter what Booth claims, I can prove that my books aren't based on anything in real life. By Booth's words, fiction always has a drab and plain inspiration from the real world. In my books, Kathy has Agent Andy. And he couldn't possibly be based on Booth. Because, even if Booth were the real world mirror of Andy, he is far greater than the fictional agent could ever be.

So no, my books are not based on real life. Because instead of reality falling far short of fiction, my fiction falls far short of my reality.


End file.
